


Empty Ice

by phoenixwaller



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Did I mention angst, Frottage, Ghost Sex, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, I dole out angst like Oprah doles out cars, Just Roll With It, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major Injury, Masturbation, Photography, Slow Burn, VicturiBang17, VicturiBang2017, World Travel, comatose main character, figure skating, spirit photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 12:13:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 77,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12507156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/pseuds/phoenixwaller
Summary: Yuri Katsuki is considering retiring from competitive figure skating after coming in sixth at his first Grand Prix Final, but an accident only days after the final leaves his idol, Victor Nikiforov, in a coma. Grief stricken, Yuri decides to dedicate his season to the fallen skater and throws himself into the sport. He puts everything on the line for three final competitions. Then, dreams shattered, he retires.Adrift, grieving, and unsure of his place in the world Yuri turns to photography and quickly becomes known as one of the best figure skating photographers at competitions. It is this that leads him to the one thing that lends a sense of catharsis: recreating famous photographs of Victor, except in empty ice rinks.However, soon strange artifacts start to appear in his photos, and a presence calling itself Victor attaches itself to him. Yuri is left to wonder if he is going insane or if he's being haunted, and whether the strange artifacts in the photos are at all connected to the comatose skater.Written for the VicturiBang2017Check out companion artwork byYukariKitsuni9on Tumblr.





	1. Failure - Dec 2014

**Author's Note:**

> **10-29-17 Edited to add cover by Jenrose**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> From the moment this idea popped into my head I knew I had to write it. So many things happen, and it's twisting and turning and sometimes it seems like the Victuri endgame is far away, but at the same time it was really an interesting thing to approach so many characters from a point of mutual grief. 
> 
> If you like this work, please give it a boost with kudos, comments and especially shares. 
> 
> Also make sure to check out companion artwork by [YukariKitsuni9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for) on Tumblr. (linked directly to art post)
> 
> Enjoy!

[Thanks to Jenrose for the beautiful cover!](http://jenroses.tumblr.com/post/166896764281/so-with-yukarikitsune9s-permission-i-took-about)

* * *

**“** **_Photography is about capturing souls, not smiles._ ** **” ― Dragan Tapshanov**

  
    **_"We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there._ ** **” ― Pascal Mercier, Night Train to Lisbon**

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri groaned, his head pounding. Light streamed through the drapes of his Sochi hotel room. He blinked away the intense pain and looked to the nightstand for his glasses. He found them, sitting on a piece of paper with a travel package of aspirin and bottle of water.

“At least drunk me is polite enough to have predicted the hangover this time,” he grumbled as he downed the meds and water. The noise, and motion, made his head throb.

He’d failed; sixth at his first Grand Prix Final. He’d thrown away so much, only to fail in the end. His dog was dead, because he’d chased a dream rather than recognize his limitations. All he had to show for his effort was a hangover after the banquet.

He’d made a fool of himself in front of his idol.

He started to cry, but quickly choked it back when it made the pain in his head flare. He’d cry later, when it would feel like relief rather than further punishment.

He sat there for a minute, trying to determine if moving was going to be a problem. When he decided it was safe he set the water aside again, and got a good look at the note.

“Huh? That’s not Japanese. Drunk me always leaves notes in Japanese.”

Yuri picked up the slip of paper and studied it for a moment before trying to read. The characters were neat, and nobody’s handwriting he recognized.

 

> _Good morning Yuri,_
> 
> _I hope you’re not too hungover. I really enjoyed talking to you. I hope that I’ll get to see you again before my flight. I’ll be in the restaurant at 10:00, and I’ll look for you. I’d love to get to know you better._
> 
> _I grabbed your number off your phone, I hope that’s ok. I probably won’t have a chance to call until after nationals though, so please try to have breakfast with me._
> 
> _-В. Н. ♥_

Yuri stared at the note. _B. H.? Do I know anybody with those initials?_ He scrunched his nose, turned the paper over to make sure there was nothing on the back, then stared at it for several more minutes.

Realization slowly dawned on him that he’d been blackout drunk, and that somebody else had been in his room. Panic gripped him for a moment before he recognized that he was still mostly clothed. His suit pants were wrinkled from having been slept in, and his shirt was untucked, but he had the distinct impression that whoever B.H. was, that they were at least polite enough to not take advantage of a drunk man.

He set the note down with and looked at the time on his phone. He breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever B.H was, was probably long gone. It was approaching noon.

Yuri was hungry though, and knew that he needed to eat or the headache would get worse. For a moment he considered calling room service, but figured that if B.H. had a flight they couldn’t afford to wait in the restaurant all morning for him.

Yuri showered, and changed into jeans and a sweater before making his way to the restaurant off the lobby of the hotel. The restaurant was packed, and he started to second-guess his decision, but he didn’t have the chance to retreat when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

“Good to see you’re up Yuri,” said his coach, Celestino. “I was getting a bit worried.”

“Sorry coach,” Yuri said.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get something to eat. We have one sponsor to talk to this afternoon before they return to Japan. They want to discuss things before nationals. Then I want you to get some sleep. We need to leave for the airport not long after midnight.”

For once Yuri was glad of the absurd times international travel required. Sleeping off some of his hangover sounded like a good idea before boarding a twenty-hour flight.

Yuri kept looking over his shoulder and around the crowded restaurant as he and Celestino waited for their food. Eventually the coach noticed. “What’s wrong Yuri? What are you looking for?”

Yuri fidgeted. “Umm Coach? Do you know who took me back to my room last night?”

Celestino looked slightly abashed. “No, sorry Yuri. Once the sponsors and ISU officials left I went with Josef and Yakov to get drinks. I hear it turned into quite the party though.”

Yuri groaned and draped himself across the table. “At least tell me I wasn’t a complete wreck in front of sponsors and officials.”

Celestino laughed. “You were tipsy, but just enough to be charming. A couple did ask, but I was able to pass it off.”

Yuri sighed, and felt more like melting into the floor than sitting back up as a waiter appeared with their food.

_Maybe I should give it up; stop embarrassing myself._

“Let’s take out your quad salchow once we get back to Detroit,” Celestino said after a few silent bites. “You don’t need it for nationals, and I’d rather see you land a clean triple than take the deduction.”

“But…” Yuri started to argue.

Celestino held up a hand. “It’s too early in your program Yuri. You get in your head once you miss it, and spiral quickly. I’d rather see you lose those points than get caught in that well.”

Celestino paused and sighed. “The same well you’re already in. You need a win. So sacrifice the points and turn in a solid performance. We can reevaluate before Four Continents.”

They ate in silence, Yuri inwardly seething about being asked to downgrade his programs.

Celestino finished first and rose. He set a hand on Yuri’s shoulder before leaving. “Think about it Yuri. This is just the start of the season. Don’t let one bad performance lead to more.”

* * *

 

Yuri clapped the ice shavings from his hands and brushed off his pants, ready to make another lap of the rink and try again. He’d been back in Detroit three days, and had a week until he needed to leave for nationals. He was determined to consistently land the quad salchow before he left.

“Why are you so focused on this Yuri?” Phichit asked from where he stood at the barrier. “You’re going to hurt yourself at this rate. You’ve done nothing these past few days except work on the qual sal.”

Yuri glared at his best friend as he performed crossovers to gain speed before launching into another jump, and coming down hard again.

He banged his fist on the ice in frustration.

“Take a break Yuri,” Phichit yelled. “You’re not gonna land it when you’re exhausted.”

“Is he _still_ at it?” Celestino asked, walking back into the rink. “I thought I told you two to break for lunch an hour ago.”

“He kept saying ‘one more try,’” Phichit explained with a shrug.

Celestino sighed. “Yuri, you’re done for the day. No argument. I’m not going to let you hurt yourself so close to nationals. Phichit, you’re done too. Go get something to eat, both of you.”

Yuri glared as he skated to the barrier and put on his guards. He stomped toward the locker room, and heard Celestino talking to Phichit behind him.

He wasn’t going to give in. The quad stayed. If he took it out now he might as well hang up his skates.

Memories of falling in Sochi assaulted him, over and over, reminding him that he was a failure. Yuri leaned against the painted cinderblock wall, taking deep breaths until he felt he had his bearing again.

“Are you ok?” Phichit asked, draping a hand over Yuri’s shoulder as he caught up to him near the locker room.

Yuri took another deep breath before nodding.

“Sochi again?” Phichit asked, guiding them into the empty locker room.

Yuri nodded again. “I can’t downgrade the jump Phichit… I just can’t. It’ll mean admitting that I’m a failure.”

“You’re not a failure, Yuri.” Phichit sighed.

“I am though. I need that jump to be able to compete at the international level. Taking it out for nationals just proves that I’m not good enough.”

“Nonsense!”

Yuri looked at his best friend with an almost unreadable expression.

Phichit sat down on the bench next to him. “Listen to me Yuri. It’s your turn in the spotlight. Making the final just proves it. You have the skills to keep Japan at the fore of figure skating. Oda’s retired, and Takahashi just announced his retirement too. Kozuka is struggling to stay on the podium. The three champions that have stood in your way aren’t there any longer. Step up now. Ciao Ciao is right, you don’t need that quad for nationals. Clean it up in practice, but just relax for once on the ice. Show the world the skating that I see every day, the Yuri who is more at home on the ice than off it.”

Yuri sighed.

A notification sounded on Yuri’s phone, and Phichit perked up immediately. “There, see, the fates agree with me.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, his fingers itching to pick up his phone.

“I know that sound as well as you do,” Phichit teased, reaching over to grab Yuri’s phone before he could and unlocking it. “That’s your Google alert. Victor is in the news. It’s a sign I tell you: that you should listen to your coach and take the top spot at nationals without a qual sal.”

Yuri rolled his eyes again and was about to snatch his phone away with the alert sounded a second time.

“Two articles?” Phichit mused. “Outside a competition?” He poked at the screen, opening a link.

The alert sounded three times in succession, and Yuri reached to grab his phone, a stone forming in the pit of his stomach. He did a quick conversion in his head, knowing that it was far too late for anything other than breaking news in Russia to have caused so many alerts at once.

Phichit fended him off while he skimmed an article, his face growing increasingly pale.

“Phichit, give me my phone,” Yuri demanded.

“Yuri… I… I don’t think…”

The door to the locker room banged open, and a panicked Celestino filled the frame. Both Yuri and Phichit turned to look at him.

“Good, you’re still here,” Celestino panted.

“What’s going on?” Yuri demanded, once again reaching for his phone.

Celestino strode into the room, plucking Yuri’s phone from Phichit’s hand and pocketing it before sitting on a bench opposite them.

“It’s Victor,” Celestino said softly. “The news just broke. There was an accident, and doctors don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
>  
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	2. Shattered Dreams - Dec 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri breaks when he learns of Victor's accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

All of Celestino’s students were assembled on the bleachers. A few had looks like Phichit’s; expressions that said something bad had happened. Others were confused, pulled off the ice with no notice and told not to look at the news until an announcement had been made. 

Yuri knew only what Celestino had told him. The coach had immediately recognized that Phichit had read at least one article, and had sworn him to silence until everybody could be gathered. 

Once everybody was settled, Celestino cleared his throat. “Sorry for interrupting practice, but I thought this was better for you all to hear from me rather than go home and find out.”

Celestino paused and took out his own phone, unlocking it and skimming an article that must have been open on the screen. 

Celestino cleared his throat again. “At approximately seven forty-five local time Victor Nikiforov was walking along the street near his home, apparently returning from dinner, when a car lost control and struck the four-time figure skating world champion and recent winner of a fifth consecutive Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final.”

Yuri felt a hole threatening to swallow him open underneath him. 

“Nikiforov suffered extensive injuries in the crash, and doctors cannot currently estimate his chances of survival. However, due to the extent of his injuries it is unlikely that he would be able to return to competitive skating should he survive..

“Alcohol is not an expected factor in the crash, which appeared to have been caused by a large patch of black ice on the road.

“At this time this paper has reached out to Nikiforov’s coach for a statement, but has not heard back. Further details will be added as they are revealed in this still-developing story.”

Silence fell in the rink, until one of the girls from a pairs team choked out a sob. Yuri looked to see her stuff her hand in her mouth to silence herself, but nobody could miss the tears streaming down her face. Her partner put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close, tears at the corners of his eyes as well. 

Yuri was numb. There was nothing left. First his loss in Sochi, and now the loss of his idol. Victor might die, and even if he lived he’d never be able to skate competitively again. 

* * *

Yuri carefully pulled the poster from the wall, fingers tracing the lines of a face that he’d idolized for so long.

It hurt too much, the healthy, vibrant, face smiling from the posters was unbearable to look at every time Yuri realized that the man in the photo was clinging to life in a Russian hospital. 

Three days had passed since the news. Victor hadn’t woken up.  Yuri hadn’t been back to the rink. There was no purpose, no point to going. 

His dream had been shattered. He’d never skate against Victor again, he’d never be acknowledged as an equal. 

He’d never surpass him, so why try?

A part of Yuri wanted to shred the posters in anger, but they still meant too much to him. Instead he popped the end off the tube of one that had arrived mere hours after the news broke. It was Victor in his newest free skate outfit. Yuri had pre-ordered it the moment it had gone on sale in September, and it had shipped while he was in Sochi. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at it. 

Yuri rolled up the poster that he’d just taken down and slid it into the tube before moving onto the next one. 

The walls were almost bare when there was a knock at his door.  _ Phichit.  _

Yuri sighed. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to  _ feel.  _ He was broken inside, and didn’t want anything anymore. 

“Yuri? I have soup.”

Yuri sighed. He didn’t want to eat, even though he was hungry. He knew Phichit would be persistent. It was better to eat a little bit than have the Thai skater push. 

He walked over to the door and opened it. 

Phichit stood there, large bowl of soup in hand. His eyes widened as he took in the empty walls. “Oh my god… Yuri…”

Phichit turned and set the soup on the floor before taking Yuri into his arms and holding him tight. “Yuri…”

Yuri broke, emotion flooding him all at once after days of numbness. His fingers clenched the back of Phichit’s shirt. “Phichit!” he wailed. 

They clung to each other for several minutes before the Thai man steered Yuri toward his bed and managed to sit him down. He retrieved the soup and pushed it into the Japanese man’s unsteady hands. 

“Why are you taking down your posters Yuri?” Phichit asked softly as Yuri tried to keep a spoon from spilling everywhere. 

“I… I just can’t. I can’t look at them anymore knowing that he could die at any moment.”

Phichit wrapped his arms around him again, and Yuri squeezed his eyes shut. It was too much. 

Yuri kept his eyes closed when Phichit stood, and it was only the sound of a poster being removed the wall that made him open his eyes. 

“What… what are you doing?” Yuri sniffled. 

“Eat,” Phichit ordered, reaching for the other corner. “You eat, and I’ll take these down so you don’t have to.”

Yuri nodded, then realized Phichit couldn’t see him. “Okay.”

Yuri ate as much soup as he felt he could handle, appetite all but gone. He set the bowl on the floor once he was finished, still more than half full. 

He watched his best friend meticulously take down every poster of Victor Nikiforov that remained, roll them and slide them into the tube. Once his walls were bare Phichit urged Yuri to lay down, and he crawled into bed beside him. 

Yuri melted into Phichit’s arms, soothed by the presence of the person who knew him best. 

“He’s never going to skate again Phichit,” Yuri sobbed. 

“Shh, Yuri, don’t say that. He might not be able to skate competitively anymore, but once he recovers he’ll work hard to perform in exhibitions. You’ll see him skate again, just you wait.”

“It’s not the same…”

Phichit smoothed Yuri’s hair while he cried and kissed his forehead. 

* * *

It had been almost a week since Victor’s accident. The doctors had declared that he’d live. But he still hadn’t woken up. Nobody could say how long he’d remain in a coma.

Yuri hadn’t returned to the rink. He’d barely left his room except to use the toilet. He only ate when Phichit brought him food. 

For the first time in his life, the ice wasn’t a refuge from the pain

Phichit knocked at his door, and let himself in after a few seconds of silence. He sat on the bed next to Yuri. 

“You need to go back to practice Yuri,” he said, draping his arms over the despondent man’s shoulders. 

“Why bother?”

“Because you’re Japan’s new ace.”

“No I’m not.”

Phichit hugged him tighter. “Come on Yuri. You can’t give in now.”

“There’s nothing left to skate for Phichit. My dream was to face him on the ice, for him to see me as an equal. That can’t happen now. He’ll never skate again, so why should I?”

Phichit sighed. “Then skate  _ for  _ him.”

“Huh?”

Phichit moved and knelt on the floor in front of Yuri. “Yuri, don’t give in like this. Skate for him. Dedicate the season to him. I’m sure he’ll be touched when he wakes up.” 

“I don’t know Phichit.”

“Please Yuri,” Phichit begged. “Don’t go out like this.”

“But I already told Celestino to pull me out of nationals.”

“You know Ciao Ciao, he won’t put in paperwork like that until the last minute. He won’t send it until you’ve missed your flight. You’ve still got almost an entire day to decide.”

Yuri sighed. “I haven’t practiced.”

“You have a bit of time in the morning, and we know Ciao Ciao gets you there with plenty of time for assigned practices. It’ll be hard, but I know you can do it.”

Yuri was silent. 

“Do it for him... please?”

Yuri felt fresh tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

“Come on Yuri…” Phichit urged. 

* * *

Yuri downgraded the jump.

In the end Phichit had convinced him. If he couldn’t skate against Victor then he’d skate  _ for _ him. He’d skate against his record, and dedicate the rest of the season to his idol. 

Sochi haunted him in new ways as he took the ice. In addition to horrible failure it had the taint of missed opportunity. 

He couldn’t fail again. It meant too much. There was no point if he didn’t turn in his best. 

Yuri poured his soul onto the ice. Pain and loss filled his every movement. Each jump screamed of agony, and tears poured down Yuri’s face as he held his final pose. 

He set a new personal best in both the short and long programs. In the end he scored thirty points higher than he had in Sochi. He returned to Detroit with a gold medal, and had been named to the teams for both Four Continents and the World Championships. 

* * *

Yakov made a statement only days before the New Year. Victor had undergone multiple surgeries to repair as much as they could, including several to reduce swelling in his brain. He was out the highest danger, but only time would tell if he ever woke up.

He announced that the living legend was being moved to a hospital better equipped to handle coma patients. 

Yuri informed Celestino and Phichit that he would retire at the end of the season. With the looming deadline he pushed himself harder than he ever had before. 

He wasn’t skating for himself. He wasn’t skating for Japan. He was skating for Victor. 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	3. Blind Ambition - Jan-Feb 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's determined to give Victor a proper tribute, no matter the personal cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

Yuri trained like a man possessed. The only thing for him to do was win, anything less was failure. It was his last season, and he’d give his idol a proper tribute. 

There was no reason not to push himself to the limit, and beyond. 

By early-January he consistently landed the quad salchow in practice, and even altered his programs for a more difficult entry. 

Once he was happy with it, he started again. He drilled the quadruple flip until he felt that his legs would fall off. Then drilled it some more. 

It wouldn’t be a proper dedication without Victor’s signature move. 

“Nobody expects you to learn a quad flip,” Phichit shouted as Yuri rounded the rink. 

“I do.”

Yuri heard the sighs, the whispers. His rinkmates knew that he was on a path that would leave him burned out within months. 

Only Phichit and Celestino knew that he wasn’t planning to come back, that he was sacrificing his legs to put everything on the line for two more competitions. 

Phichit cheered when Yuri landed the quad flip at the end of January, with less than a week until he’d have to leave for Four Continents. 

Yuri wasn’t pleased though. The landing wasn’t clean, it wasn’t perfect. He needed to do it again. 

He thought of Victor’s free skate in Sochi, how it was flawless. 

He wouldn’t settle for anything less than perfection. 

He was consistently landing the quad flip after several more days of intense practice. Large circles hung under his eyes, and he was exhausted from training long hours and doing homework until he fell asleep on his textbooks. 

Celestino cut his training to four hours a day only three days before they had to leave for South Korea. The coach insisted that Yuri needed to rest or he’d pass out from exhaustion on the ice. 

Yuri didn’t want to rest, he wanted to show the world that Victor was still a competitor to reach for. He needed to prove that Victor still mattered. 

Celestino threatened to pull him from competition if he didn’t give himself a couple days of rest. 

Yuri relented, limiting his practice to four hours a day in the days leading up to Four Continents.

* * *

 

The atmosphere in South Korea was muted as competitors gathered. Though Victor lived in a European country and was therefore ineligible for Four Continents, his presence had loomed large over the sport for years. 

Yuri had heard from one of his Swedish rinkmates of people crying at the European Championships several weeks earlier. A part of him expected the same level of emotion to hang over the next several days. 

He couldn’t allow himself the freedom to mourn. His anxiety clawed at the edges of his sanity, only held at bay by the single-minded determination to honor Victor’s legacy. 

Yuri couldn’t fail. 

Yuri paced when he wasn’t practicing. The loss of Victor as a competitor and the need to honor him properly were like an itch under his skin. He was restless, anxiety acting up in new and unfamiliar ways. Rather than wanting to binge eat, he had almost no appetite whatsoever. Phichit and Celestino had to come up with an emergency diet change to ensure he took in enough calories to have the energy to compete. In the nights leading up to competition he only stopped tossing and turning, running over the programs in his mind, when Phichit snuck over from the other bed in their shared hotel room and forced Yuri to settle down by cuddling him. 

Yuri knew that what he was doing wasn’t healthy, but he was like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver. The single-minded determination was what kept him from sinking back into despair again. 

The day of the short program arrived, and Victor’s accident weighed heavy in the air. Reporters were relentless with him, JJ and Cao Bin as they were among the last to compete against the still-comatose skater. 

Yuri had expected it. His rinkmate had said that it was the same at the European Championships, with Christophe Giacometti breaking down as reporters hounded him with questions about his friend, and Michele Crispino actively avoiding the press even after his performances. 

“I won’t give any statements about Victor until after Worlds,” Yuri stated as he pushed past another group of reporters. 

Several protests echoed down the competitor tunnel. Yuri ignored them. If he spoke about Victor he’d lose his drive. He had to hold in his feelings until he had properly paid his tribute. 

The pressure seemed to get to some of the others though. Cao Bin tumbled out of a triple lutz during the short program, a jump that he could probably do in his sleep on a bad day. JJ put a hand down after one of his quads, and his signature signoff was less exuberant than usual. 

Then it was Yuri’s turn, having drawn a late spot. 

Phichit stood next to Celestino at the barrier, having skated himself earlier in the day. The Thai skater was, so far, one of the few to have a clean program and Yuri knew that it was partly because he was more focused on Yuri than the general atmosphere. 

Phichit leaned over and hugged Yuri while their coach looked on. “You’ve got this Yuri. Go honor your idol.”

Celestino merely nodded when Yuri turned to look at him. 

Yuri skated to center ice while the audience applauded politely. 

The music started, and Yuri moved. He tuned out the audience and thoughts of the other skaters. He danced to honor the man who’d inspired him for a decade. 

Everything seemed to slow as he approached the halfway point of his short program. His quad flip. So far Victor was the only one who’d ever landed one in competition. 

Yuri reached back with his free leg, and launched it. His blade wobbled on the landing, but he didn’t put his hand down. The audience came to life at seeing the unexpected jump. 

Yuri rode the high through the rest of the program, panting by the end. He’d become only the second man to land the quad flip. The program hadn’t been perfect, but he hadn’t fallen or made any major mistakes.  

The audience roared their approval when Yuri broke one-hundred points in his short program. 

By the end of the night Yuri was in first with a wide margin. Otabek Altin was in second, Phichit in third and JJ in fourth. 

“How does it feel to be only the second man to land a quad flip?” reporters asked over and over. 

“I’ll discuss the flip after worlds,” Yuri replied to each, brushing past. This was his tribute, but he wasn’t done. He had to stay focused. 

Protests chased after him, and Celestino reminded him that he’d have to play nice with the press and give them something after the free skate. 

Yuri paced in the hotel room that night until Phichit pulled him into the bed and octopused him to keep Yuri down. 

“Let me go Phichit, we have a free day tomorrow.”

“Sleep now, pace tomorrow.”

“Can’t… final project, remember.”

“Oh… that’s right. I still think you’re insane for bringing your photography gear too. Couldn’t you have found a subject back in Detroit?”

“Practice is more important right now. But this forced downtime is perfect.”

“So what will your subject be?”

“I’m thinking the ladies’ programs.”

“You should really get out of the arena. We’re in Seoul. Take photos of the city.”

Yuri made a noise and he felt Phichit deflate. He felt bad about the strain on his friend and allowed the Thai man to cuddle him to sleep. 

* * *

 

“Katsuki?”

Yuri turned to see Hisashi Morooka standing nearby, a confused look on his face. 

Yuri bowed slightly in greeting. “Hello Morooka-san.”

The older man acknowledged the greeting before speaking. “What are you doing here? Your practice was this morning and I’ve followed you long enough to know you keep a low profile on days you don’t skate.”

Yuri smiled and held up his camera. “Final project. I need to present a portfolio on a subject. I thought the ladies’ short was a good opportunity. I prefer action photography to landscapes or portraits.”

Morooka smiled. “Come with me.”

“Pardon?”

“Skaters have to be with a member of the press to get into the press areas, right?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Come on then. I’ll get you in. We’ve got some great vantage points that you won’t get elsewhere.”

Yuri fidgeted. “Are you sure? I mean...”

Morooka smiled. “Positive. Just be mindful of the television cameras and other photographers.”

Yuri hesitated, going into the press area opened him up to more questions about Victor. 

“They’ll be mostly focused on the ladies today. And we’ve all been there. School is important. You might get a few who push, but just make it clear you’re here on my invitation to take photos and that skater Katsuki will be back tomorrow.”

Yuri smiled. “Thank you Morooka-san.”

Yuri followed Morooka into the press areas. It took a bit of convincing to get him to the areas for news photographers, but somehow the reporter managed to get him in. 

“I’d like to see your photos if you don’t mind,” Morooka said before leaving to take his place in the broadcaster box. 

Yuri bowed in gratitude. “Of course, that would be the least I could do after you managed to get me access to this side of the rink.”

Morooka smiled and headed to the broadcaster box to begin his commentary for Japanese television audiences. 

Yuri walked along media row, stepping over microphone cables and weaving through the photographers and reporters. A couple of the judges gave him looks as they were in the same general area, but he adhered to no-contact rules and steered clear. 

After a few minutes Yuri found his vantage point. It was at the end of media row, near one end of the rink. He set his bag on the floor and selected a lens. He’d just finished setting the shutter speed and f-stop when the first group took to the ice for their warm-up. 

Yuri took several photos during the warm-up, and checked them near the end of the six minutes to make sure everything was to his liking. 

Then the first competitor shrugged off her team Mexico jacket, revealing a ruby red and glittering black dress. Her opening pose immediately made Yuri think of a flamenco. 

She started dancing, and Yuri started taking photographs. By the end of the first group he’d gone through an entire memory card. 

Morooka had been right, as much as reporters were itching for a story from him he was obviously doing something that wasn’t skating. When he explained to the few who asked that he was working on his final project for his degree they respected his space.

Yuri slumped into a nearby chair as the crowds began to drift out of the arena after the final woman received her score. 

A shadow fell against his legs and Yuri looked up. Morooka stood there, holding out a hand. Yuri took it and allowed the reporter to help him to his feet. 

“Do you want to come back for their free skates?” Morooka asked. “You’ll be done by then.”

Yuri smiled shyly. “If it’s not a bother.”

Morooka nodded. “Come on, I need to do interviews, and you should probably get some releases signed… just in case.”

“I don’t know if any are worth selling,” Yuri said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I haven’t even had a chance to go over them yet.”

“But you carry releases, yes?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Do you need to keep them secret for your project, or can you sell them?”

“I can sell a percentage before I present the collection. After there are no restrictions.”

“Good, we’ll see if there are any I can use.”

“Huh?”

“I may be a broadcast reporter, but I supplement web articles with stills. I have a budget to buy photos from freelancers. So if you get any that I can use I’ll buy some off you.”

“You… you don’t have to. I’m sure there are far more experienced photographers here.”

“Yes there are, and everybody knows who they are. I’ll buy from them if your photos aren’t up to my standards, but consider this me giving you a chance to show me what you can do off the ice.”

Yuri felt some of the tension leave his body. He nodded. “Ok. I’ll get the releases signed. I’ll put together some of my better shots for you to review.”

“Great!” Morooka handed Yuri a card. “Give me a call when you’re ready. I’ll be filing my short reports for a couple hours. I’ll need to be ready to publish longer pieces by midnight so that my editor has time to review before pushing the morning releases.”

Yuri nodded. 

* * *

 

Yuri ended up signing autographs as he received them in return on photo releases. A couple of the ladies asked to see his photos as well. 

He sold three photos to Morooka, one of each of the female Japanese skaters. One was in a layback spin, holding her blade and hair streaming behind her royal blue dress. Another was of the favorite executing a flawless triple axel, one of the few ladies who was able to land the difficult jump, ice chips falling from her blades. The final was a photo that made Yuri sad, but was also part of the story, showing the final female representative from Japan half-tumbled after she failed to land a jump. 

By the time Yuri took to the ice for his warm-up the next day a few savvy readers had noticed the photo credits, and there were almost as many comments on the quality of the photos as there were on the quality of the ladies’ programs. More than one commenter lamented that Yuri would be unable to photograph his own program. 

The praise of something unrelated to his skating helped to calm Yuri’s nerves until right before the warmup for his group. However, since his anxiety hadn’t had a chance to fully settle in he managed to mostly keep his feet about him, only two-footing the landing of his quad toe. 

Yuri felt tears at the corners of his eyes when Phichit finished his skate, in first place with only Otabek and Yuri left to skate. Phichit was assured a bronze. 

“Congratulations!” Yuri cried, hugging his friend. They held each other at the barrier while Otabek skated. The Kazak skater managed to edge out Phichit, but they were still thrilled. 

Then Yuri took the ice.

“Call him back with your skating,” Phichit murmured. Celestino stood back again, recognizing that Phichit was able to motivate Yuri more than he could right then. 

Yuri nodded. “He’s an athlete. Surely a challenger will bring him back.”

Phichit nodded against Yuri’s forehead. “Go show the world that you’re a worthy competitor.”

All Yuri needed was a clean program. He’d been ahead enough after the short program. He didn’t need to try for greater grades of execution. 

Yuri skated his sorrow, the loss of his dream, his desire to see his idol on the ice again. 

Tears streamed down his face as he held his final pose. He’d landed the quad flip again. He had a successful quad sal-triple loop combo. His programs weren’t quite up to the difficulty of Victor’s yet, but he had a month left to bring them up. 

Phichit glomped Yuri on the podium after they’d been awarded their medals. Otabek nodded in approval from the silver medalist’s position. 

Yuri had taken gold at one of the four biggest international competitions. And he knew that it wasn’t enough… yet. 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> So we're getting into some unrealistic figure skating skill development, but canonically Yuri got that quad flip down fast, so we're just gonna roll with it. 
> 
> Besides, anybody who saw the words "ghost sex" in the tags isn't here for realism, LOL. ;-)
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	4. Final Skate - Feb-March 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri takes to the ice for the final time at the Figure Skating World Championships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

Yuri sold four more photos to Morooka after the ladies’ free, and several of the women’s coaches asked for details to have their branding teams get in touch for others. The skater from Mexico loved one of the images so much that she expressed interest in using it as a poster. 

The acknowledgement of his skills as a photographer helped Yuri’s mood for the first couple days after returning to Detroit. But soon the darkness edged in again. Victor was still in a coma, and worlds was quickly approaching. 

Yuri couldn’t count on lingering grief to weaken the programs of skaters like Chris and JJ, and Otabek was a strong contender as well. He needed to win, which meant he had to bring up his scores even more. 

Yuri put in so many hours that he had to buy a new pair of skates several months earlier than he’d normally need to. He ordered two pairs, because he couldn’t risk his other pair breaking down and not having two broken in pairs at worlds. 

“Yuri! This is insane!” Phichit called as Yuri continued to drill quads after normal practice. 

“Phichit, I love you, but either count the rotations or let me focus.”

Yuri knew that Phichit was on the verge of another argument as he pushed off into the jump. He came down hard and rolled onto his back to take a moment. “How many?”

“Three and a half. Take a break! Nobody develops quads this fast. You shouldn’t even be trying!”

“Fine,” Yuri spat, brushing ice shavings from his pants as he stood. He rounded the rink gathering speed then launched into a quad sal-triple toe-triple loop. 

“God Yuri!” Phichit cried. “Shouldn’t that be enough? How many people can land a quad-triple-triple?”

“Victor could. So can Chris.”

“And they do it off a toe loop, not a sal. You’ve already got points there.”

“It’s not enough Phichit.”

“Yuri, everybody is talking. You’ve got the flip. You switched your combo in your short to a quad sal-triple loop, which is hella hard. Even if Chris puts in a perfect performance you’re going to give him a run for his money.”

“That’s why I have to work harder Phichit. I can’t afford the chance that I lose!”

* * *

 

Eventually Phichit stopped protesting. He sat and watched after normal practice every day, almost silent as Yuri drilled. Yuri knew that his friend was only there to make sure that somebody was present who could call for an ambulance if Yuri was injured. 

Yuri knew he was hurting his friend, but every time he stopped, every time he tried to relax, the anxiety clawed in again. He was on a high-calorie diet because when he wasn’t on the ice he paced relentlessly. He’d already set aside some money for when he moved out to replace the carpet in his bedroom as he’d worn a patch nearly bare. 

His portfolio of photos was submitted and evaluated by a panel of his professors. The fact that several had been deemed high enough quality for a news outlet was factored in, and two weeks before worlds he was given a passing grade. He’d earned his degree in photography. 

He spent the last week before heading to Japan boxing his belongings and drilling quads until he thought his legs would fall off. 

Celestino threatened to pull him again, and for the first time in weeks Phichit seemed calm. 

Yuri took his friend to one of their favorite greasy burger places three days before they had to leave. It was one of the few times Celestino had ordered Yuri to eat something fattening. He still needed the calories. 

Then they were on their way. Yuri’s final skate as a competitive figure skater. Phichit kept stealing glances during the flight. 

Even Celestino didn’t know what Yuri had up his sleeve. Yuri knew the coach would have pulled him for sure if he’d even known Yuri was trying. Phichit was sworn to secrecy. 

Yuri wanted the whole world to know just how inspirational a figure Victor Nikiforov was. 

* * *

 

“Katsuki-san!”

Yuri smiled at Morooka and rose from the table at the small cafe not far from the stadium. He bowed in greeting before both men sat. 

“Did you have a chance to consider my email?” the reporter asked as a cup of coffee was set before him. 

Yuri nodded. “I won’t be able to get complete photos of ice dance. It conflicts with my scheduled practice rink times. I think I’ll just make the ladies short if I get off the practice rink on time. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to get to the main rink before you have to start broadcasting.”

“What did coach Celestino say?”

Yuri sighed. “He said it’s good for me to get out of my head and focus on something else. He thinks it’s a fantastic idea.”

Morooka chuckled. “I’ve received several emails asking if you’ll be taking photos again. Your fans are excited to see you skate, and excited to see how you capture those perfect moments in skating.”

Yuri rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “I don’t think I’m anything that special.”

Morooka shook his head. “No. You have an edge because you’ve been there. You know the ice, you can see the skater set up in ways even seasoned reporters can’t. There’s a reason that people retire and become commentators. Ask Oda. You bring that personal touch. He can wax eloquent about how well an element was executed, and you capture it in a photo.”

Yuri blushed. 

“Listen… about you getting into the press area… I made a few calls. We can add a press icon to your badge. I probably wouldn’t have been able to pull the strings outside of Japan. But if you want we can get you access without me having to escort you.”

“Really?”

“There would be restrictions, as you’re a competitor. Obviously you would have to stay as far from the judges as possible.”

Yuri nodded. 

“And we’d have to inform security and other staff beforehand of times you’d expect to be there. It’s a bigger competition than Four Continents, so there will be less leeway for me to just get you in.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Listen Yuri, it’s not a bother at all. In fact you’d be doing me a favor. There are other freelancers I can buy from, but the public wants as many of your photos as possible.”

Yuri thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Ok. Celestino wants me to stay distracted until I skate, and this seems a good opportunity.”

“Great. We’ll get the addition made to your access badge.”

* * *

 

“Hi Minako-sensei,” Yuri said softly, embracing his ballet instructor. “It’s good to see you.”

“You look rough kiddo,” she said bluntly. “What’s up?”

Yuri chewed his bottom lip. 

Minako sighed, grabbed his sleeve and started walking. 

“M… Minako-sensei!”

“I’m getting you into skates, to a calm rink, and you’re going to tell me everything.”

Yuri froze. Minako turned to stare when he stopped cold. 

“It’s… it’s Victor…” Yuri whispered. 

“Victor?” Minako paused, then her eyes widened. “Nikiforov?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Isn’t he still in a coma?”

Yuri nodded again. 

Minako stared, then understanding passed over her face. She drew a trembling Yuri into a hug. “I’m so sorry Yuri. I should have realized how much that would affect you.”

Yuri bunched his fists in her coat. “I’ll never skate against him again Minako-sensei,” Yuri sobbed. “He’ll never see me as an equal.”

Minako rubbed a soothing hand up and down Yuri’s back. 

* * *

 

Yuri climbed the stands in the arena, dodging workers putting the finishing touches on the decoration and making last minute fixes to the seats. 

He wanted to find a couple different vantage points. Media row was nice, but he felt that it didn’t fully capture the beauty of some performances. He was a good way up and turned to look at the ice. 

His breath caught in his throat. The angle was nearly perfect. He climbed one more tier of seats then walked about halfway down the row. 

Tears prickled at the corners of Yuri’s eyes. He could see the photo, famous from early in Victor’s senior career. The platinum haired skater at center ice, waving to fans and surrounded by tokens raining on the ice. 

The photo had been taken from this very spot during a previous NHK Trophy. 

The coldness of the arena, the smooth and clear ice… they cemented Yuri’s feelings in a way that he’d not been able to process. He lifted his camera and took several photos. 

Yuri wiped tears from his eyes as he left the arena and returned to the hotel. 

* * *

 

Phichit hugged Yuri as he waited to take the ice. “You’re going to be brilliant.”

“Are you sure about that jump combination?” Celestino asked from where he waited on the side. “That’s an exceedingly difficult combo.”

Yuri nodded. “I am.”

“I can’t talk you into downgrading it to a toe?”

Yui shook his head and Celestino sighed. 

An attendant gave Yuri the go ahead, and he stepped onto the ice. He waited at the barrier for last minute instructions, but instead got something unexpected from his coach. 

“It doesn’t have to end here Yuri. You’ve grown in ways that most coaches would only dream of. You’ve got tonight and the free skate. Please reconsider retiring.”

Yuri smiled. “Sorry coach. But my reason for skating is gone. This is my tribute.”

Celestino sighed, then leaned across to hug his student. “Then make it the best tribute ever.”

Yuri wiped tears from his eyes, and Phichit muttered something about waterproof makeup. 

Yuri’s name was called, and he could feel the eyes of his competitors on him as he skated to center ice. He’d unveiled a quad flip at Four Continents, and the rumors had spread from the rink of how hard he was working. 

Yuri took a deep breath and the music started. 

Flying sit spin… step sequence… combination spin… then the halfway point. He landed the quad flip to thunderous applause. He followed it with a triple axel, then set up for his final combo: quad salchow- triple loop.

The arena roared when Yuri’s scores were announced. He’d broken Victor’s short program record. 

Yuri stared. Phichit glomped him. 

“Are you ok?” Celestino asked. 

“No,” Yuri replied. “He’ll never defend it.”

Celestino patted Yuri’s shoulder. “I know as a skater this would have gotten his attention.”

Yuri nodded mutely.

* * *

 

“Yuri!” a feminine voice called. He was glomped and saw black hair tumbling over his shoulder. He turned to look into the violet eyes of Sara Crispino. “Those photographs you took of me were incredible!”

Michele Crispino stood protectively nearby, but for once seemed to allow his sister her exuberance. 

“Thank you,” Yuri blushed. “But they’re nothing special.”

Sara pouted at him. “What are your rates?”

“Huh?”

“I want you to take my promo photos for next season. I know we’ll need to work around your schedule, but I don’t care. I’ll come to you if I have to once I have a costume.”

“I… uh…” Yuri rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Oh I know!” Sara cried. “Take Mickey’s photos too!”

“Huh?” the Italian skater demanded. 

Sara turned to him. “You need a better photographer anyway. Yuri here has talent for it.”

“I don’t know…” Michele replied, eyes flicking between Yuri and his sister. 

“It’s settled!” Sara declared. “Yuri here is our new promotional photographer.”

“Sara!”

Sara stuck her tongue out at her brother. “I’ll get your email later Yuri!”

She skipped off, and Yuri saw a flash of red hair at the end of the hall. Mickey sulked behind her. 

Yuri shook his head and resumed his journey to where he was going to photographs the pairs competition.

* * *

 

Yuri jogged back and forth in the tunnel. He would be skating last, just after Chris Giacometti. 

The standings were good, he was ahead by more than ten points going into the free skate. Otabek Altin was several points behind Chris, followed by JJ, Michele, Cao Bin. Phichit was in eighth, and the Thai skater’s achievement was the only thing that Yuri was able to focus on other than Victor. 

“I don’t know who else Thailand will send when we have two spots next year,” Phichit joked. “I was the only senior male competitor at nationals.”

Yuri stopped, walked over and embraced his friend. “You’ll make them proud.”

Phichit hugged Yuri. “You know you’re about to win Worlds on home ice yourself.”

Yuri nodded. His parents, sister, Minako, and even the Nishigori family were all in the audience. The onsen had been closed for the day so that they could all attend.

“Nervous?” Phichit asked. “You’re about to make history you know.”

Yuri could hear the hopeful tone in his best friend’s voice. But he hadn’t been nervous since Victor’s accident. 

Yuri shook his head. “No… just empty.”

“Oh Yuri…” Phichit held him tight for several minutes, until Celestino yelled for them both to keep warm. 

“Are you sure about that combo?” Phichit asked as they stretched. 

“The quad-triple-triple is fine,” Yuri replied. 

“I meant the other one, the one even Ciao Ciao doesn’t know about.”

Yuri nodded. “I’m sure.”

Phichit sighed. “Don’t get hurt out there Yuri.”

“I’m already hurt.”

“Phichit!” Celestino called. “It’s time.”

Yuri accompanied his friend to the ice, wanting to be rinkside for support. They hugged. 

“This is for you Yuri,” Phichit whispered. 

Yuri watched as his best friend poured his emotion onto the ice, and it ached how much pain he’d put the other man through over the prior months. He could feel Phichit’s loss, and how he’d struggled to provide guidance. 

Yuri hugged him tight as he came off the ice. “That was beautiful Phichit. I’m so sorry I put you through all that.”

Phichit hugged him back. “Make it worth it. Ok?”

Yuri nodded into his shoulder. 

“I’m skating  _ The King and the Skater  _ next season,” Phichit murmured. “You’ll be there to watch, right?”

“Of course I will.”

They stood there until Celestino had to drag Phichit to the kiss and cry for his scores. 

The crowd thundered their support, and Yuri saw Phichit crying when he realized that he’d indeed made the top ten. 

“You did good,” Yuri praised as they returned to the tunnel. 

Yuri only had a few minutes. There was the skater after Phichit, a man from Germany, then the zamboni would resurface the ice for the final group. 

“Yuri?” an accented voice drawled. 

Yuri looked over to see Chris Giacometti waiting nearby. 

Yuri nodded in acknowledgement, and Chris strode over to embrace him. “Thank you.”

Yuri blinked several times. “Chris? For what?”

“The flip. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to thank you before now. I can see Victor in it. I miss him, and when I saw that jump I knew I wasn’t alone.”

Yuri hugged the Swiss skater. 

“He’d have been thrilled you know,” Chris said. “He was waiting for the day somebody else landed a quad flip.”

“Watch me,” Yuri blurted out. “All I ever wanted was for him to watch me. Since you’re his best friend, will you do that for him?”

“Of course I will.”

They got the signal, and it was time for the warm-up. 

Yuri only did a single jump in the warmup, a quad toe, to get his footing. He needed to save his legs for what he was about to do. 

He blanked his mind to music as the other skaters performed. He didn’t need to know, didn’t want to know. He’d see the totals when he was done. 

Chris Giacometti was done, earning a score that would have terrified Yuri weeks earlier. But now he only had one goal. 

Everything had converged on a single performance, a single tribute to the man who had shaped the course of Yuri’s life. 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	5. Tearful Dedication - March 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri bears his soul to the world as he discusses the importance of Victor Nikiforov in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

The crowd roared. Yuri was theirs, a Japanese skater about to bring home gold on home ice. 

Yuri caught sight of Chris, standing at the rinkside as he’d promised. Phichit stood next to him. 

The music started. At the beginning of the season it had meant to reflect Yuri’s discovery of himself. Now… it was his path, his constant chasing of a dream. 

The first jump combination, simple… a couple of triples. The first spin. 

_ He was a new skater, just making his mark on the international scene.  _

Triple axel. 

_ His growing fanbase loved his axel.  _

Quad lutz - the audience thundered its approval with yet another new quad. 

_ Growing, striving for more.  _

Quad flip. 

_ This is who I’m chasing, the only man who has ever mattered to me, Victor NIkiforov.  _

He’d reached the halfway point. He launched into a quad salchow - triple toe - triple loop combination. 

_ Pushing myself. I have to get better, I have to  _ be _ better if he’s ever going to see me.  _

Step sequence, choreographic sequence. 

_ Look at me Victor. See me.  _

Time slowed as Yuri reached back with his free leg and plunged his toepick into the ice. 

_ I have to reach higher! _

Four rotations, land, and he grit his teeth, tears spilling from his eyes as he launched the second jump. 

_ And now you’re not there! _

Four rotations, and a clean landing. There was a beat of stunned silence before the audience came to life. 

Final combination spin, slowing, then the final pose. 

_ He’d reached higher and higher, and in the end it had all been in vain.  _

He’d done it. He’d skated a clean program with a technical difficulty that would be difficult to overcome for years. 

Tears streamed down his face as he waved to the audience. Relief and emptiness were at war inside him. 

“What was that final combination?” Celestino demanded as Yuri took a shaking step from the ice, legs sore from the intensity of the performance. 

“Sorry coach,” Yuri muttered, taking a sip of water. “I knew you’d never allow something so risky, so I’ve been practicing it in private.”

Phichit plopped down on the other side of Yuri and hugged him. “You did it.”

“You  _ knew? _ ” Celestino demanded. 

Phichit paled slightly and skipped off to avoid the lecture. 

Celestino shook his head. “Do you even have the legs left for competition after that?”

“Maybe for another year or so, if I never did it again,” Yuri admitted. “But I’m not changing my mind, this was my farewell.”

The scores were announced. Yuri had set another world record, two if he counted the new record for combined score. He’d surpassed Victor’s records and set a new bar. 

Applause thundered through the arena. 

Yuri and Celestino moved back to the tunnels to allow crews to set up the podium for the medal ceremony. 

Yuri found the nearest empty bathroom, locked the door to prevent another incident like what happened with Yuri Plisetsky in Sochi, and broke down. It was over. 

_ I guess you’re getting what you wanted _ . Yuri thought, remembering the teen’s angry outburst.  _ I’m retiring. _

He sobbed for several minutes before there was a knock at the door. “Yuri,” Celestino called from the other side. “They’re almost done. You should fix your makeup.”

Yuri stood and made his way to the locker room. He allowed Phichit, who’d risen to sixth, to fix his makeup, then it was time for the medal ceremony. 

He was flanked by Chris Giacometti, who wore a stunned and nervous expression, and Otabek Altin, who seemed as stoic as he had at Four Continents. 

A gold medal was draped around Yuri’s neck, the national anthem played, the crowd cheered. 

Yuri was empty, he’d given everything and now all that was left was the darkness. 

As the audience filed from the arena the winners were swept to a press conference. Yuri politely deferred as many questions as he could to Chris and Otabek. He didn’t want to overshadow them, and knew that once he started talking he’d be unable to stop. 

Then came the question that he couldn’t put off. “Mr. Katsuki, what advice do you have for your fellow competitors now that you’re the first man to land a quad-quad combination in competition?”

Yuri barely restrained a sigh as he leaned into the microphone. “Don’t do it. It’s not worth it.”

Polite laughter sounded through the room.

“But won’t they need that combination to be able to compete against you in coming seasons?”

Yuri took a deep breath, it was time. “No. I’ll never skate that combination again, and I actually would recommend that the ISU consider banning it during their summer meeting. It’s far too hard on skaters’ bodies.”

“Why ask to ban a combination that you could use to your advantage?” another reporter shouted. “Surely this gives you a technical edge over your competition.”

Yuri shook his head. He caught Phichit out of the corner of his eye, hands clasped and shaking his head. Celestino had a resigned look, but pleaded with his eyes. 

“I won’t need the quad-quad,” Yuri declared. “Because I’m retiring, this was my final competition.”

A thick silence enveloped the room. Chris gaped, and even Otabek had a shocked look on his face. 

Yuri pulled the microphone closer, it was time to bare his soul. “I first saw Victor Nikiforov skate when I was twelve.” His hands trembled, but he needed to tell his story. “I had already been through a handful of competitions at the novice level, but wasn’t sure if figure skating was for me. Then there he was at the Junior World Championships. He was sixteen and stunning. I still remember the way his hair streamed behind him, how the lights glittered off the thick stones on that black costume. I knew from that moment forward that I would do everything possible to meet him as an equal on the ice.

“I renewed my dedication to skating. I trained hard. The next year I debuted in the junior division, and started bringing home awards of my own. But it was never enough. Victor was still out of reach. So I moved to the US at eighteen to train with coach Celestino. 

“My skills got better under Celestino, I grew even faster as a skater under him. But the more I flourished, the harder it got.”

Yuri took a deep breath and clenched the microphone stand. “Very few people outside of family and friends know this, but I think it’s important to know, and I hope that others can look to me and see they’re not alone. I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder in my mid-teens. It made competitions difficult. Even worse, my therapist at the time said it often manifested with a side of imposter syndrome. The better I performed, the higher my scores, the harder it was for me to accept them. 

“I couldn’t accept my achievements, and my failures compounded in ways that would affect me for weeks or months. All the while, Victor was still out of reach.”

Yuri paused, all the eyes in the room were on him. 

“When I made the Grand Prix Final this season it was both a dream and a nightmare. I was there, I was going to skate on the same ice as my idol. But I still felt like an imposter, like I wasn’t good enough. Then my beloved poodle, whom I’d left behind for training, was killed when he escaped and ran into the road at night. 

“I missed every one of my jumps in the free skate. I was sure I was done. If I talked to Victor I was sure the only thing he would feel was pity, if even that. I was a nobody.”

Chris reached out and took Yuri’s hand. 

Yuri’s eyes flicked to the other skater, then back to the assembled press. 

“I was contemplating retirement when the news of Victor’s accident broke. Even in practice I wasn’t landing jumps cleanly. I thought nobody would care if I quietly walked away. But part of me also held onto that dream, of being seen as Victor’s equal.

“I was devastated by the news. I missed a week of practice to depression, and it’s only thanks to Phichit Chulanont that I’m even here today. He’s the one who told me to dedicate my season to Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuri paused and took a deep breath, tears started rolling down his face. “All I wanted for so long was to compete against Victor and have him see me as an equal and worthy rival. The accident shattered those dreams. He’d never skate competitively again. 

“Even worse, he’d slowly fade from memory, relegated to figure skating history. I couldn’t let that happen. I’d strived for Victor my entire career. I had to prove that he was still relevant, that no matter how it ended that he was  _ still  _ a skater to strive for.”

Yuri sniffled. 

“When future generations of skaters look to the records I set here, and aim to meet or break them, they’re not reaching for me, they’re reaching for Victor Nikiforov, because  _ I  _ was reaching for Victor Nikiforov. I have no doubt that if he were listening and preparing for next season he’d already be planning an even more technically challenging program to reclaim his records.

“I wanted to display the same level of difficulty that he had, I wanted to set new records not to surpass him, but to honor him. I learned his signature jump, the quad flip, because I knew that seeing it would remind fans of the first man to land it. I learned the quad lutz because he loved a challenge and therefore so should I. I wanted to learn a quad loop, but there just wasn’t enough time. I had to do something new and unexpected instead, and so I became the first to land a quad-quad combo.”

Yuri fidgeted with the microphone cable.

“A part of me fell in love with Victor Nikiforov all those years ago. Beauty and grace, power, perseverance and dedication. He embodied all of those traits. He was my idol, my dream. He was the sun, and I the moon. I may have eclipsed him for just this moment, but it is through this that I hope that his light continues to shine on this world, that he is all the more brilliant because of the impact he’s had.”

Yuri wiped the tears from his eyes. 

“I’m stepping aside now, because it’s not my right to stand in this place. My dream is dead. Even when Victor wakes, he won’t return to the ice. I really would be an imposter if I stayed now, stealing the dreams from those who are left. So instead I leave them with something to reach for. I leave for the future new records to be broken, borne of performances meant as dedication to the one who inspired my life and career. 

“When I take the ice for the exhibition it will be my love song. For the dreams I had, for the man who inspired them. It will be my farewell.

“Victor, when you wake up, if you see this… know that you were not forgotten. You were truly an inspiration and will be sorely missed.”

Yuri released a shaking breath as he pushed the microphone away again. 

“Any further questions?” the emcee asked after several quiet minutes. When the only answer was a person blowing their nose into a tissue near the back he adjourned the press conference. 

Yuri stood to leave, but Chris Giacometti grabbed his hand. 

“Was all that true Yuri?”

Yuri nodded. 

Chris stood and pulled Yuri into his arms. Yuri leaned against the taller man, arms dangling at his sides. “Victor would have loved to have fought back against a performance like that you know.”

Yuri nodded. 

Chris released him. “I’m sad I won’t compete against you next season though.”

Yuri wiped fresh tears from his face. “I just can’t anymore Chris. It hurts too much.”

Chris nodded. “I understand. I’m probably skating next season, but after that…” he sighed. “I just don’t know…”

Chris stepped down from the stage

Otabek stood and shook Yuri’s hand. “I’m sure he’s honored by this.” He then followed his coach from the room. 

Phichit waited with Celestino at the bottom of the stairs. Both men embraced Yuri. 

“Let me know if you decide to come back,” Celestino murmured. “I’d be honored to have you again.”

Yuri nodded and sniffled. 

Phichit hugged him. “I want you at every one of my competitions, do you hear me? You’re my official photographer from now on.”

Yuri hugged his friend and nodded. 

They made their way slowly, Yuri’s feet dragging, to the locker room. Yuri changed in silence, avoiding the glances of lingering skaters. He was still too raw to deal with them. 

The glass doors of the lobby were in sight, a blessed release to the darkness beyond when a grating voice called out. “Katsuki!”

Yuri turned to see Yakov Feltsman standing behind him in the tunnel. He nodded to Phichit and Celestino to keep going. 

The Russian coach strode to Yuri, then stood there, studying him. 

“Did you really mean all that?” Yakov asked after several minutes. 

Yuri nodded. 

“I’ll make sure that he watches your performances and your interview when he wakes up.”

Yuri stared as the Russian coach walked away. 

* * *

 

Yuri waited at center ice for the music to start. He wore a blue and black outfit that matched Victor’s costume from the free skate. 

Gasps from the crowd as the music started and Yuri moved. Everybody recognized it as Victor’s free skate. 

Tears streamed down Yuri’s face as he skated his farewell. 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	6. Blank Canvas - April 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri continues to fight his depression upon his return to Hasetsu, but a new arrival gives him a fresh purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

“I’ll be rooting for you,” Yuri said as he held Phichit tight. “I know you’re going to be brilliant.”

“I wish you’d come back,” Phichit said, squeezing Yuri around the middle. 

“I know, but there’s nothing left for me Phichit. You know that.”

Phichit buried his face in Yuri’s shoulder. “There’s me.”

Tears streamed down Yuri’s face. “I’m sorry Phichit. I really am…”

“I know.”

Celestino stood nearby, downcast expression on his face. “My rink is always open to you if you change your mind,” he said after a minute. “I hope you do.”

“Thanks coach.”

A voice came over the intercom. Celestino and Phichit’s flight would be boarding shortly. 

Yuri hugged Phichit again. “Come visit me in Hasetsu, ok?”

Phichit nodded. “Of course. But you have to come see me in Detroit.”

Yuri nodded. 

Phichit took several steps away. 

“Phichit?”

Yuri’s heart almost broke at the hopeful look on his friend’s face. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. You helped me so much, especially the past few months. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Phichit ran back and glomped Yuri. “I’ll always be there for you Yuri. You know that.”

“I know. And even though I’m not skating anymore, I’m here for you too.”

“You’ll at least do exhibitions, right?”

Yuri nodded. “I think I can do that. But not yet. I’m still too raw.”

Phichit nodded. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

The announcement sounded over the intercom again, and Celestino cleared his throat. 

“You’ll miss your flight,” Yuri said softly. 

Phichit nodded, squeezed Yuri tight then released him. He walked back to where Celestino waited and waved. “You’ll be there for my first Grand Prix event, right?”

“Anywhere in the world Phichit,” Yuri replied. “I’ll be there.”

Phichit waved again and turned to follow Celestino. 

Yuri watched until his friend and former coach disappeared into the crowd before he let the tears fall again. He wiped them on his sleeve and headed the other direction. He had just over an hour until his own flight for Fukuoka left. 

Yuri pulled his mask over his face. He didn’t want to be recognized. He hid himself behind a newspaper, sitting on the hard airport seats, and only revealed his face for a moment when boarding. 

He took first class for the first time, wanting to avoid the glut of people in economy. Just over two hours later he boarded the train that would take him to Hasetsu. 

* * *

 

Hasetsu station was decorated in posters of Yuri. Several of them had a banner proclaiming ‘world champion’ spread across, something that made him pull up his mask a bit more. 

“Yuri!”

Yuri cringed before he realized that it wasn’t a horde of new fans. Minako stood near the turnstiles, uncharacteristically still. “Welcome home after five long years.”

Yuri exited, and the dancer folded him into her arms. “How you holding up kiddo?”

Yuri shook his head. 

“Everybody’s excited to see you, when you’re ready.”

Yuri nodded and allowed his mentor to lead him from the station. 

“Don’t you have a class to teach?” he asked once they were outside.

Minako shook her head. “We’re closed today. Not many kids taking ballet. Hasetsu’s losing more and more people each day. Having you back should help though.”

Yuri stopped. “I… I’m nothing that special.”

Minako turned and faced him. “You’re a world champion Yuri. No matter what got you there, you did it. You’re the first person besides Victor Nikiforov to hold that title in five years. No matter what, when he wakes up he has to view you as an equal.”

“He still has more…”

“One or four doesn’t matter. You stepped up to the stage and gave it your all. I know he’d appreciate that.”

Yuri sighed. 

Minako echoed the sentiment. “Ok, let’s get you home.”

* * *

 

“Look who I found!” Minako declared as they walked into Yu-topia Katsuki. 

Hiroko ran out of the kitchen. “Welcome home Yuri!” She turned to her friend. “Thank you for picking him up Minako-senpai.”

Yuri noticed the awkward way his mother stood, and all he wanted was to fold himself into her arms. He stepped forward and melted into her embrace. “Kaasan…”

Hiroko petted Yuri’s hair and back. “Welcome home baby boy.”

“I failed Kaasan,” Yuri hiccuped. 

“You didn’t fail Yuri,” Hiroko murmured. “He’ll wake up and see your tribute. Just wait and see.”

The sound of a door sliding open, then another pair of arms. “Welcome home Yuri,” murmured Toshiya Katsuki. 

“Thanks Tousan.”

Hiroko took Yuri’s face between her hands and kissed his forehead. “How about I make katsudon?”

“Can I pay my respects to Vicchan first?”

She nodded. “I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”

Toshiya grabbed Yuri’s luggage. “I’ll take this to your room son. Go on down.”

Yuri nodded and padded down the hallway. He slipped into the room with the tiny shrine and knelt in front of it. 

He lost track of time in his thoughts when he heard the screen slide aside. He turned. “Mari-neesan. Hi.”

Mari leaned against the doorframe. “Welcome home Yuri. Are you doing ok?”

Yuri shook his head. 

“Want to talk about it?”

Yuri shook his head again. 

Mari took a couple steps into the room and knelt beside him. She reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“Do you know what you’re going to do now?”

Yuri shook his head a third time. 

“You got your degree, right?”

Yuri nodded. 

“I saw your photos on the news website. They’re really good. Do you think you’ll take more?”

Yuri sighed. “I probably will. A number of skaters have asked me to shoot their promotional photos this next season. Morooka also seems interested in working with me.”

“Are you ready for that?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know I’ll support you, no matter what you choose.”

“Thanks Nee-san.”

Mari stood again and walked to the door. She lit a cigarette. “You should go relax in the hot springs after dinner. You look like you need it.”

Yuri smiled weakly as his sister strode from the room. 

* * *

 

Even after winning the World Championships, Yuri’s nervous energy didn’t dissipate. He ate katsudon on a semi-regular basis and barely managed to keep his weight up. 

He still trained, running to Ice Castle every morning, skating for several hours, then weight training or ballet in the afternoon. He paced relentlessly. By the end of the first week everybody had come together and staged an intervention. They knew they needed to redirect Yuri’s energy. 

Yuko convinced him to help teach a class of beginner skaters, and Minako helped him with choreography for an eventual exhibition skate. Mari gifted him with several new memory cards, and gave him orders to take several beautiful photos each day. 

Hiroko and Toshiya redecorated Yuri’s bedroom one day while he was out, hoping that a change would disrupt his raging thoughts. 

Eventually Yuri settled into a sort of stasis. He taught a handful of classes each week, walked around Hasetsu taking photos for several hours each day rather than pacing and managed to get his body to an equilibrium. 

His instagram account grew as he posted photos of the city, and tourists started coming in to see where the new world champion was from.

* * *

 

“Very good girls!” Yuri called to where Axel, Lutz and Loop practiced simple spins. 

“Really?” Loop asked. 

Yuri smiled and nodded. “You’ll wipe out the competition before you know it.”

Yuri turned to where another child had taken a tumble and was crying. He helped the boy to his feet and dried his tears. 

“You’re ok Touma,” Yuri cooed. “Falling is how you know you’re making progress.”

“Really?” the boy sniffled. 

Yuri nodded. “I stopped counting my falls a long time ago. There were days I felt like crying too, but I knew I fell because I was pushing myself to be better. If you stop falling then it means you’ve stopped growing. Do you understand?”

The boy sniffled again and nodded. 

Yuri stood and patted his shoulder. “Take a break if you need to, then get back out there and try again.”

“Yes, sensei.”

Yuri smiled as the boy skated on wobbling legs to the barrier, carefully walked across the rubber mats to a bench and sat down, cradling his water bottle. 

“He reminds me of you,” Yuko said, leaning against the barrier. “You cried at first too. But you came back, and you stopped falling.”

“I never stopped falling, I just fell on increasingly difficult things.”

Yuko chuckled. “This is more students than we’ve had in years.”

“Think they’ll stick it out?”

Yuko nodded. “The girls will, the only thing that excites them more than watching figure skating is planning to compete themselves one day. I have the feeling Touma there will continue. He came in and signed up the day after your win. He started crying in excitement when I told the class that you would be working with them. He wants to be as good as you one day.”

There was a commotion out front. Yuko turned with a sigh. “Not the paparazzi again. I thought they’d have let up by now.” She strode toward the lobby. 

Yuri looked up at the clock. He clapped his hands. “Ten minutes everyone, then we’ll cool down.”

“Yes sensei,” the children chorused. 

The commotion got louder, and Yuri turned just in time to see the glass doors pushed open and a blond head walk in. The person strode right to the barrier, then shouted, “Oi! Loser!”

Yuri blinked at the distinct Russian accent curling around the English words. Then realization sunk in. “Yuri Plisetsky?”

“Tch, who else would it be?” the teen scoffed. 

“Yuri Plisetsky!” Axel, Lutz and Loop cried in unison, skating over as quickly as possible to gape at the junior world champion. 

“So you’re teaching children instead of training?” Yuri sneered. 

Yuri sighed. “I’m retired.”

“Like hell! You don’t get to just set new world records then fuck off to retirement!”

“Language!” Yuri snarled. “They might not speak much English, but these are children.”

“Tch.”

“You’re obviously here for a reason, so mind your language around the kids at least.”

“What will you do if I don’t? Cry in the bathroom again?”

Yuri drew himself up and skated to the barrier. He looked down his nose at his namesake. “Worse. I won’t listen to whatever you came here for.”

Yuri shrunk in and grumbled, but nodded. “Ok.”

Yuri released his breath and turned back to his students. He clapped his hands. “Ok all, we’re ending a few minutes early today because a special guest has arrived. For those of you who don’t know, this is Yuri Plisetsky, from Russia. He just won the Junior World Figure Skating Championships.”

“I heard my name? What did you tell them?” Yuri grumbled. 

Yuri sighed. “I ended class early and told them you’re a special guest. Try to be nice at least.”

Yuri sighed, then knelt to shake small hands as they gawked at his blond hair and green eyes. When all the kids except the triplets had trickled out he stood. He looked down at where the trio still stood on the ice. “What about them?”

Yuri smiled. “That’s Axel, Lutz and Loop. They’re the owners’ granddaughters. They’re given almost as much leeway here as I am.”

“They’re named after figure skating jumps?” Yuri’s eyes went wide.

Yuri smiled and nodded. “You probably met their mother out front. She did pretty well in juniors at the local level, even got to junior nationals a couple times. But as she approached the age cutoff she decided to leave competitive figure skating. She never gave up her love for it though.”

Yuri turned to the triplets. “Give us a bit of space girls?”

The triplets nodded and skated off, practicing bunny hops and spins. 

“What brings you all the way here from Russia?” Yuri demanded. “Don’t you have a senior debut to worry about?”

“That’s why I’m here. Teach me the double quad. Since you’re not skating you won’t need it.”

“No.”

“What?” Yuri bellowed. “Why not?”

Yuri sighed. “I won’t let you ruin your legs.”

“I’ve been practicing quads behind Yakov’s back for years. I haven’t ruined them yet.”

Yuri grit his teeth and forced himself to remember that Yuri was only a teen. “If you’ve been practicing quads you know how hard landing one is.”

“Of course.”

“This is so much worse. Because you don’t give your landing leg a chance to recover. Your free leg aches too. There’s not enough momentum to just launch that second jump, not like with a triple. When I was teaching myself I went to sleep with ice on both hips more nights than not. It  _ hurts _ Yuri. I was serious when I said that the move needs to be banned. I’ve already been scheduled to talk to officials about making it illegal.”

“Then teach me now, before they ban it.”

“No!”

“Shouldn’t it be my decision?” the teen yelled. 

“Not this time,” Yuri replied. “You’re asking for my help and I refuse.”

Yuri whined, and something about it stuck in Yuri’s heart. “Give us some privacy girls?”

Axel, Lutz and Loop nodded then made their way toward the lobby. Yuri skated to the barrier, put on his guards and sat on the bench. He patted the empty spot next to him. A moment later Yuri joined him.

“What’s wrong?”

Yuri sighed. “Victor made me a promise, and now he can’t keep it.”

“What makes you think I can do anything in his place?”

“Because you were as lost as I am. But you overcame it. I thought…”

“That the double quad would fill the hole?”

Yuri nodded, his blond hair hanging in his face as he stared at the floor. 

Yuri placed a tentative hand on the prickly teen’s back, when it wasn’t rejected he allowed it to settle there. “Tell me about it?”

Yuri nodded again. “Yakov was always on me about quads. Even though they’re allowed in the juniors he forbid me from performing them. I was so angry about that. But Victor made me a deal. He promised that if I won junior worlds without quads, that he’d choreograph my senior debut. He promised me a program I could win with.”

“You held up your end of the bargain. I saw it. You didn’t have a single quad, and were still more than ten points ahead.”

Yuri nodded. “I… I hoped he’d wake up. That he’d keep his promise. But he’s being an asshole and is still in a coma.”

Yuri pulled the teen against his side. “You miss him.”

Yuri shook his head vigorously. “Why would I miss him? He’s an arrogant ass, and so forgetful.”

“What kinds of things does he forget?”

“He forgot his promise to me… instead he’s in a stupid coma.”

Yuri’s heart ached. The teen was really as lost without Victor as he was. 

“Do you know where you’re staying?”

Yuri shook his head. 

“Come on. We’ll find a place for you at my family’s onsen.”

Yuri nodded. 

“Does anybody know you’re here?”

Yuri shook his head. 

Yuri sighed. “Come on. I bet you’re hungry.”

Yuri nodded. 

Yuri helped his namesake to his feet and led him from the rink. 

“Tadaima,” Yuri said as he walked in when they arrived back at the onsen. 

“Okaeri,” Hiroko replied, coming out of the kitchen. She paused and looked at Yuri before casting a questioning glance at her son. 

“Kaasan, this is Yuri Plisetsky. He’s visiting from Russia.”

Hiroko switched to broken English. “Welcome Yuri. Nice have you.”

The teen smiled softly and nodded in appreciation. 

“He’s hungry, and we need to find a room for him,” Yuri said. 

“I’ll make some katsudon, then we can sort the room.”

Yuri nodded and led the teen to the family’s private dining room. 

“Are you comfortable with chopsticks?” Yuri asked.

Yuri shook his head. 

“I’ll find a fork. I think we have a couple buried away somewhere.”

“Spasibo.”

Yuri padded into the kitchen in search of a fork. 

“He seems a lost little kitten,” Hiroko said from her place at the stove. 

Yuri nodded. “Victor’s accident seems to have hit him hard.”

“Are you going to be ok with him here?”

“I don’t know… but… I think he needs me Kaasan, at least for now.”

“Just don’t get overwhelmed again baby boy. You’re still not completely yourself.”

“I know…”

Yuri found the fork and headed back to where the teen sat.

Yuri’s eyes drooped from jet lag, and he cradled his face in his palm. 

“Do you want a bath after dinner?” Yuri asked. 

“I don’t want to bathe with other people,” Yuri protested. 

“We don’t have a private bath here,” Yuri replied. “We’re a bath house after all. But people respect boundaries too. If it makes you feel better there is a wooden tub that’s a bit tucked away, but still in the public areas.”

“That will work,” Yuri replied. 

Hiroko came in a moment later with two bowls of katsudon. She set one in front of each Yuri then took a seat. 

“What’s this?” Yuri asked. 

“It’s katsudon. It’s my favorite.”

“What’s in it?”

“Fried pork cutlet, rice, egg, onions, peas and broth.”

Yuri clasped his hands, offered thanks for the meal, then picked up his chopsticks and started eating. A moment later Yuri picked up his fork and took a tentative bite. 

Yuri watched as Yuri’s eyes grew wide, then the teen started shoveling food into his mouth. “Oh my god!” Yuri exclaimed around a mouthful and saw his mother beaming as the teen devoured the food.  “So good!”

Yuri smiled, then turned his head up at the sound of a sliding screen. Mari stood there. 

“Mom said something about needing a room?” She stopped and looked at the teen. “Who’s your guest?”

Yuri turned, and Mari momentarily freaked out about him looking similar to one of her favorite idols. 

“His name is Yuri too!” Hiroko happily supplied. 

“Huh?” Mari gaped. “That’s too confusing.” She pointed. “We’ll call you Yurio!”

“What?” the teen shrieked. “That’s not my name.”

Yuri laughed. 

“What are you laughing about katsudon?” 

Yuri laughed harder at Yurio’s latching onto his favorite food for a nickname. “I think it suits you.”

Yurio pouted, but quickly gave up, too tired to truly argue. 

After dinner Yuri showed Yurio the baths, and helped the exhausted teen to bed. He then looked at the time and took a deep breath before calling a familiar number. 

“Yuri!” Celestino declared. “Coming back?”

Yuri sighed. “Sorry coach, still retired. I have a favor to ask though.”

“Oh, what is it?”

“Do you have a phone number for Yakov Feltsman? One of his younger skaters appeared on my doorstep today, and I don’t think he told anybody he was coming. I think I at least need to let his coach know.”

“I don’t have one, but I’ll make some calls.”

“Thanks coach.”

“Not a problem Yuri. You’re a good one for looking out for the kid.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll text you the number when I have it.”

“Thank you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

* * *

 

Yuri’s phone buzzed a couple hours later. He looked at the clock and did a quick conversion in his head. It would be just about dinner time in St. Petersburg. He quickly dialed the number. 

For a moment Yuri worried that it would go to voicemail, then a gruff voice answered, speaking rapid Russian.

“Coach Feltsman?” Yuri asked timidly. 

“Da.”

“This is Yuri Katsuki.”

“Katsuki? Why are you calling me?”

“Sir, Yuri Plisetsky is here… in Japan. He said that he didn’t tell anybody before he left Russia. Since he’s a minor… I… I thought you’d probably want to know.”

“Yuri’s in Japan?”

“Yes, sir. He arrived this afternoon.”

The coach grumbled. “I thought he was just skipping practice. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“He wanted me to teach him the double quad.”

“Don’t you…”

“I already refused sir. It’s too hard, and he’s got too bright a career ahead of him. I can’t let him destroy his body like that.”

The coach let out a satisfied huff. 

“Where in Japan are you?” he asked after a minute. 

“Hasetsu.”

“Ok.”

“Do you want me to put him back on a plane sir?”

“No, better to let him get it out of his system. He’s been acting out lately.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him. And I’ll make sure to keep you informed.”

“Spasibo.”

Yuri hung up the phone with a sigh and cast his eyes to the room the teen slept in. 

“Guess I have a protege…”

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	7. Protege - April - May 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri decides to take on Yurio as a protege.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

Minako took a seat next to Yuri in the dining room. She sat and studied him in silence until Mari slid her breakfast in front of her. 

“Is it true?”

Yuri turned his eyes to her. “Hmm?”

“Yuri Plisetsky. Is he really here?”

Yuri nodded. 

“It’s going to blow up soon. The figure skating fans in Russia have already noticed his absence from the rink.”

Yuri sighed. “He didn’t even tell his coach he was leaving.”

Minako’s eyes widened. “We need to let somebody know where he is.”

“I talked to Coach Feltsman last night. He’s aware, and has decided that for the time being it’s better to let Yurio do what he needs.”

“Yurio?”

“Mari gave him a nickname to make it less confusing.”

“Makes sense.”

“I don’t think he likes it much though.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. So why did he come?”

“He wanted the quad-quad combo.”

“You’re not going to teach that, are you?”

Yuri shook his head. “I made the conscious decision to do it knowing full well I was retiring. But I refuse to let anybody else do that to their body.”

“He has to know the risk of a move like that, even if he is a teen.”

Yuri drew his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them. “He’s as broken as I am… flailing in the dark. He’s angry, he lost a mentor, and I think he came here thinking I could fill that role.”

“Can you?”

“I don’t know. Victor made him a promise, but I’m not Victor.”

“What was the promise?”

“Victor promised to choreograph his senior debut.”

Minako sighed. “So why don’t you do that?”

“I’m not a choreographer. Victor was.”

“Who made all the changes to your program last season? It was a wildly different performance between the Grand Prix Final and Worlds.”

“I just did what I had to to maximize points and integrate all the new jumps.”

“You changed your step and choreographic sequences, and made them better. You’re a better choreographer than you give yourself credit for.”

“He came here for a jump though, not a program.”

“Give him both.”

“Huh? I’m not giving him the combo Minako-sensei.”

“No need. Yuri, you’re only the second man to land the quad flip. He may have been prohibited from performing them, but it’s not a secret that he’s already got a massive quad toe and a solid quad salchow. Teach him the flip. Send it back to Russia with him.”

“What about a program?”

“Bring him to my studio when he wakes up. We’ll evaluate where he’s at.”

“His step sequence was level three last season, same with his spins.”

“I’ll bring up his step sequence. We’ll choreograph for him just like we did for you back before you left for Detroit.”

Yuri smiled softly. “Ok.”

* * *

 

“Where are you taking me?” Yurio groused. 

“To the ballet studio.”

“Huh?”

Yuri stopped and looked at the teen. “I’m not Victor, but we’re still going to give you a senior debut that you can win with… and without the double quad.”

“How?”

“Minako-sensei will give you a step sequence, and… Yurio… I’m not going to teach you the double quad… But I will teach you the quad flip.”

Yurio’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Yuri nodded.

“Victor said he’d teach me at some point, but hadn’t yet. I’ve tried… but...”

“It was a Russian skater who ratified it, and I know more people are working on it, but I think a Russian skater needs to be the next to land it.”

Yurio hugged Yuri before seeming to realize what he’d done. He stepped back with a blush dusting his cheeks. “I… uh…”

“That never happened,” Yuri said softly, understanding the embarrassment. 

“Damn right.”

“You mentioned a ballet studio. Who is this Minako who’s going to give me a step sequence?”

“Have you heard of the Benois de la Danse?”

“Yakov’s ex-wife is a former prima ballerina. Of course I have.”

“Minako-sensei is a recipient of it. She was my teacher before I left for Detroit. She doesn’t  _ do _ level three step sequences. She’ll do most of the choreography. We’ll then collaborate on the technical elements. There’s just one catch.”

“What is it?”

“We, Minako-sensei and I, pick the music. Victor believed in surprising the audience, so that’s what you’re going to do.”

“ _ What? _ ”

“Those are our rules.”

“Tch.” Yurio kicked the ground, then his shoulders sagged. “Ok.”

“Good. Now come on. Minako-sensei is going to drill and evaluate you today.”

* * *

 

Yurio was in the kitchen helping Hiroko. Yuri and Minako sat at one of the tables in the dining room, a phone between them and each of them with a single ear bud as they reviewed music. 

“Too much like what he used to skate to,” Minako said. “No surprise there.”

Yuri nodded. “Agreed.” He laid back on the tatami mat. 

They were silent for several minutes before Yuri sat up again. “If he’s feeling anything like me he’s going to have a hard time skating outside his feelings of loss.”

Minako sighed. “Let’s give him that outlet then.”

Yuri sighed, then a thought occurred to him. He quickly shuffled through the music on his phone. 

Minako’s eyes widened as the somber notes drifted from the ear bud. Staccato notes like a ticking clock, a mournful voila, building strings and winds. Underneath the pain was a sense of hope, of moving forward past the anguish. 

“Phichit introduced me to this composer. He’s one half of the duo known as Two Steps from Hell. This is from his new solo album, it’s only been out a few months.”

“Wow…” Minako breathed. “I think that caught a sense of loss perfectly. But I don’t want to leave the kid with nothing to follow it up. It doesn’t have a resolution.”

Yuri sighed and nodded. 

“Let’s do both his programs.”

“What?”

“Look Yuri. Yurio has been here just over a day, and you’re more relaxed than you’ve been since you got home. You’re focused on his needs instead of your own grief. I know it’s just a distraction, but I’ll take it. This is a gift. You’re doing something in Victor’s stead. Embrace it.”

Yuri glanced to the kitchen then back to Minako. “Ok, but the final decision is his. If he only wants one program that’s all we do.”

Minako nodded. “Deal. What else you got?”

* * *

 

Yurio jumped at the chance to have both his programs choreographed by Yuri and Minako. 

Once the teen had gone to bed Yuri placed another call to Yakov, whom he figured would probably want to know. 

“Is Yura already too much for you to handle?” the coach grumbled. 

“No sir… we… um… he’s going to be staying here for a little while. We’re choreographing his programs.”

“What?” the coach bellowed. 

Yuri bit his lower lip. “Sir, I know it’s sudden, and you don’t really know me. But I see the same anguish in him as I’m feeling myself. I think it’ll be good for him to be away for a bit. There are probably a lot of painful memories in St. Petersburg.” 

Yakov made a noise, but didn’t argue. 

“I’m no coach, but we’ll get him a couple programs for next season then send him back to you.”

“You say ‘we’ who else is we?”

“Oh, sorry. Have you heard the name Minako Okukawa?”

“Wasn’t she presented with the Benois de la Danse?”

“Yes sir. She’s my ballet instructor. She helped me choreograph my programs before I left for Detroit too.”

“I’ve been watching your archives. Those are some of your most expressive and impressive performances. You only lacked the technical ability then.”

“Thank you sir.”

“So it’s you, who did the unthinkable in terms of technical development in a handful of months, and a recipient of one of ballet’s highest honors want to choreograph programs for Yuri?”

“Yes.”

Yakov sighed. “How is he?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. How is he?”

“He hasn’t been here long enough to hurt himself sir. We only got him into the ballet studio today.”

“No, no,” exasperation thick in the coach’s voice. “I mean… mentally. For the past couple weeks he’s been constantly angry, blowing up at everybody more than normal. He’s not too much to handle is he?”

“Oh… well he’s angry, but I think it’s just teenage anger. What I see more of is hurt and loss. He’s not yet figured out how to process… what happened. He’s mad at Victor, but I’m pretty sure he misses him too.”

Yakov grunted something that sounded like agreement. “Let me know if he gets to be too much. But for now I’ll approve it. Text me your email address so I can send you the forms for temporary guardianship.”

“Yes sir.”

“Katsuki?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

* * *

 

Yurio hunched over, breathing hard. He glared up at Yuri from under his bangs. “What the hell katsudon, don’t you ever take a break?”

“You want to win, don’t you?”

Yuri stood and glared. “What kind of question is that?”

“I’m taking it easy on you. This has been what I’ve been doing since I  _ retired. _ I was doing far more each day between nationals and worlds. This is even easy from earlier training. There’s no way you’ll reach either me or Victor unless you’re willing to work  _ at least _ this hard.”

“Like hell! Even Yakov doesn’t work anybody like this!”

“Anybody, or just you?”

Yurio’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you.”

Yuri skated over and glared down at the teen. “Nobody could touch you in juniors. You didn’t  _ need  _ quads there because you already dominated in terms of technicality. Yakov did right by prohibiting quads for you. He forced you to focus on your performance aspects. But because you weren’t challenged by your peers you got lazy. You have to bring the whole package to seniors if you want to rise to Victor’s level. Yakov may not have worked  _ you _ this hard, but I can guarantee that he knows when and how to push. If you didn’t want to put in the work, he had plenty of other skaters who did.”

Yurio skated to the barrier, grabbed his hard guards and stormed out. A minute later Yuko came in. 

“He looked pretty pissed. Everything ok?”

Yuri sighed and skated to the exit. He slipped on his guards and took a seat on the bench. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Am I being too hard on him Yuko? I can tell he’s the type that doesn’t want to be coddled, but I’m not used to being so blunt either. He calls me on it when I treat him with kid gloves, then storms off when I don’t.”

“He’s a teenager, who lost a mentor and is lost himself in a way. I think you’re going to have to roll with the punches on this one.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, but I don’t want to make it worse on him. I’m not a coach, I never planned to be one, and I’m kinda fumbling in the dark right now about what to do.”

“As long as he keeps coming back I think you’re doing ok.”

“Really?”

She nodded, and the doors opened. Yurio stood there, looking down at the floor. 

“See?” she asked, standing and patting Yuri’s knee. 

Yuko was almost to the door when Yuri called out. “Yu-chan?”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember our old training route?”

“Of course!”

“I’ll take over at the front until Nishigori gets back. Can you take Yurio out for the run. I think he needs some time away from me.”

She smiled then turned to Yurio. “Come on. It’s a nice day, and I know a great ice cream shop at the halfway point.”

The teen smiled at her. “That sounds nice.”

Yuko tossed Yuri a wink as she strode out. Yuri took off his skates and made his way to the counter. It was the middle of the day, and most people were at work or school, so he started inspecting the rental skates to pass the time. 

He was lost in his thoughts when a hard on his shoulder startled him back to reality. 

Nishigori laughed. “Sorry man, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Yuri smiled at his friend. 

“Where’s Yuko?”

“Yurio and I were at each other’s throats. I sent him with her for a run. I think they’re stopping for ice cream too.”

Nishigori nodded. “It’s hard on you, isn’t it?”

Yuri nibbled on his bottom lip. “Yes, and no. Focusing my energy on him is helping, but neither one of us is in a good place. Add in that he was grating on a good day before, and we’re probably at odds more than is healthy.”

“He’s growing by leaps and bounds though.”

“Is he?”

Nishigori nodded. “The girls rewatch his performance from junior worlds almost every night. I can see the difference. He’s already more graceful, and I have no idea how he’s so close on the rotations for a quad flip so soon.”

Yuri smiled. “That’s not all me. I could tell right away that he’d been trying for a while already, probably when Yakov wasn’t looking.”

Nishigori chuckled. “Whatever it is, he’s going to have one hell of a senior debut.”

“I hope so. He’s working hard for it.”

Yuri fell silent, eyes flicking between skates and the doors to the rink.

“Go get on the ice man. I can see you’re itching to work through your own racing thoughts.”

“Sorry…”

“You’ve been like this as long as I can remember. No need to apologize. You think best when you’re allowed to skate it out.”

“Thanks.”

Nishigori clapped him between the shoulders. “You know the Nishigori family will always have your back.”

* * *

 

Minako stood at the barrier, calling instructions to Yurio. 

Yuri decided it was the perfect time to practice his photography. He grabbed his camera from the cart, picked a lens and crouched, keeping Yurio in the frame. 

Yurio was in the zone, his emotions on display as he worked through Minako’s complicated step sequence. 

After a moment and a couple dozen photos he decided to try a different angle. He skated around to the far side of the rink. Light streamed through the tall windows on his left, the glass doors at the far end. 

“Good!” Minako said. “Practice your jumps for a few minutes while I review the video.”

“Da!” Yurio called back. 

Yuri kept focused on Yurio as he gained speed and launched a flawless triple axel, shutter sounding like a snare drum as it went off. 

Yurio started building speed again, and Yuri could tell by the concentration on his face that he was about to try for the flip. 

Yuri kept the focus, even as he called for Yurio to get more speed. The teen lifted off from the ice, and the shutter machine-gunned. 

Yuri realized what he was photographing as Yurio came back down. The landing wasn’t going to be clean, but the teen had gotten the rotations for the first time.

Pride swelled in him, far more than he thought he was capable of, given his ongoing depression. He stood and cheered even as Yurio picked himself up from the ice. “Yurio! You got the rotations!”

The blond teen gaped. “Re… really?”

Yuri nodded. “Come here. I was taking pics.”

Yurio skated over and leaned in as Yuri switched the camera over to show the photos on the memory card. 

“So here’s your entrance, you could change your posture just a bit.” Yuri advanced a couple photos. “There’s the first rotation… number two… three… and there’s your fourth full rotation!” he exclaimed, advancing between each photo. He advanced one more and the teen scowled.

“And then I fell…”

“The landing will come, for now just be proud of getting the rotations.”

Yurio huffed and skated off to get instructions from Minako. 

Yuri glanced back to his camera and went back to the apex of the jump. It was perfect. Yurio was cast in a beam of light, hair fanned around his face and a look of determination hardening his features.

Yuri connected the camera to the bluetooth on his phone and sent the photo over. He then reviewed the other pics from the jump. 

“Huh? That’s weird,” he muttered, looking at the photo from when Yurio’s blade contacted the ice.

“What’s up?” Minako asked from where she’d wandered over. 

“This flare here. I don’t recall seeing anything like that.”

“What flare?”

Yuri pointed to a bright spot in the photo, silver in color. “Right there.”

“Hmm… It’s in the light. Maybe a speck of dust?” Minako offered. 

Yuri studied the photo and made a noise. “They normally don’t look like that, but I can’t think of anything else either.”

“It’s kinda pretty. It looks like he was about to hang onto the landing.”

Yuri nodded. “Yeah. He’ll get it soon enough.”

* * *

 

“Your angels are going crazy over that photo of your jump.”

“What the hell katsudon? I thought we were keeping it a secret.”

“Oh settle down. Even for those who can identify a flip from a still, there is no way for them to count the rotations. It could be a single for all they know.”

“Oh… yeah.”

“I just captioned it about you practicing hard.”

“Ok.”

Yuri leaned back from the table and stared at the ceiling. “What are your plans after dinner?”

“Your mom promised to teach me a new recipe if I helped with dishes tonight.”

Yuri turned to look at the teen, he smiled. “You like taking cooking lessons from my mom, don’t you?”

Yurio blushed lightly. “It’s different. I’ve always had my meals decided for me before. But she can make things that meet my diet and still taste good.”

“I hope you’re not counting katsudon in that.”

Yurio laughed. “No, but I’m determined to get that recipe before I leave.”

“Good luck. I couldn’t get it before I left for Detroit, and I’m blood.”

“I have my ways.”

Yuri laughed. Silence fell between them for a moment. “You’re calmer than when you first got here. It’s hard to believe it’s only been five weeks.”

Yurio flopped back onto the tatami mat. “Who has energy to be angry when they’re exhausted? You’re a slave driver, you know?”

Yuri laughed again. “I’m still taking it easy on you.”

“You’re a masochist.”

“Aren’t you a bit young for a word like that?”

“Fuck you.”

Yuri laughed then smiled fondly at the teen. “I am pushing you, but we’re nowhere near where I was between nationals and worlds. I would never drive you that hard. You’d burn out in a year if I did.”

“Why work that hard to immediately retire?” Yurio asked, turning over. 

“Because I couldn’t see myself skating competitively any longer, not without him. Just to get to worlds was a struggle. But there’s no tribute in tripping over my own feet for two performances. It was a matter of go big or go home… and… I was in a bad bad place. Skating the tribute gave me a purpose. I’d have worked myself even harder, but coach Celestino, and Phichit… from Thailand… they would force me off the ice. They saw how unhealthy it was.”

“Is that why you still train so hard, even though you’re retired?”

“Partially… but the ice has always been a refuge for me.” Yuri wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin on top. “I got my degree in photography, but… A part of me is still out there, frozen in time, waiting for him to wake up.”

“What will you do?”

“Several skaters have already asked me to shoot their promotional photos for next season. I’ve got a date lined up to go to Italy for the Crispino twins, I’ll take a train from there to Switzerland for Chris Giacometti. France… Emil from the Czech Republic… Germany… If nothing else, I’ll still be a part of the figure skating world. It’s too soon to say goodbye.”

“Would you…?”

“Hmm?”

“When I get a costume… would you come to Russia for my photos too?”

Yuri smiled. “I’ll have to charge.”

Yurio gaped, grinned and laughed. “About time you charge me for something!”

“Do you  _ want _ to pay Minako-sensei and I for the choreography and coaching, and rink time, and room and board?”

“Hell no!”

Yuri laughed, then silence fell between them again.

“They’re all doing it as a favor to me you know,” Yuri said after a minute.

“Really?”

Yuri nodded. “Remember that bad bad place I mentioned? It didn’t miraculously go away after winning worlds, I just had all the nervous energy and no outlet. They saw how much focusing on you helped.”

“I… helped you?” Yurio looked shocked. 

Yuri nodded again. “I’m depressed Yurio, don’t let the lack of me wallowing in pity fool you. I know it, which is both a burden and a help. Teaching you has given me something to focus on, and I’m slowly crawling out of this. I made a lot of unhealthy choices as a means of coping, luckily teaching you isn’t one of them.”

“Katsudon…” Yurio whispered, pushing up to his knees. He crawled over and hugged Yuri. 

“I know… this never happened,” Yuri joked. 

“Damn right.”

Yuri unwound himself just enough to wrap his arms around the teen. “Thanks Yurio.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Among family it is.”

Yurio sniffled. “I hate you.”

“I know…”

* * *

 

Yurio had been in Japan for just over five weeks and was making incredible progress. The landing of his quad flip wasn’t there, but Yuri knew that the teen would have it by the time the season started. His programs, however, were leaps and bounds ahead of his previous programs in terms of artistry. Minako had worked with him to not only develop a complicated step sequence that was sure to impress judges, but had also drilled him on upper body movement for higher points. 

It was their free day, and Yurio was sleeping in. Meanwhile, Yuri was still fighting his nervous energy and was preparing for a morning run. 

It was early, air still mild, the perfect time to run. Yuri sat at the step in the genkan and pulled on his shoes, then slid open the door. 

_ Woof! _

Yuri stared at the brown poodle, looking so much like a larger version of Vicchan. Then the dog pounced, knocking him to the floor and licking his face. 

Yuri started laughing. He’d forgotten how much he missed doggy kisses. He plunged his fingers into the thick fur and scratched behind the dog’s ears. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” he said, then got a good look at the dog’s face. “Wait a minute… Aren’t you…?”

Yuri felt the blood drain from his face. He looked up to see the exasperated expression of Yakov Feltsman standing in the door. 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> And Yakov arrives...
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	8. Yakov - End of May 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakov arrives to check up on Yurio and evaluate his new programs and progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

Yuri wriggled out from under the poodle and stood, brushing dust from his pants. “Coach Feltsman… sir.”

“Drop the ‘sir’ Katsuki. None of my skaters are formal with me, no need for you to be.”

“I… uh….”

“Just call me Yakov.”

“Yes si… I think I can do that.”

“Is it ok if I keep calling you Katsuki? It makes it easier to differentiate between you and Yura.”

Yuri nodded. “It’s customary in Japan anyway. I’m fine with it.”

“Sorry about Makkachin. She’s not been so exuberant in months, but as soon as we arrived she got excited.”

“Probably smells the breakfast my mom is cooking… wait… you’ve been taking care of her?”

Yakov nodded. “Vitya’s mother is allergic, so his parents can’t. I know Vitya would never forgive me if she wasn’t there when he wakes up… so I took her rather than her be sent to a shelter for rehoming.”

“What’s she doing here though?”

“Ah,” Yakov rubbed the back of his neck. “When I was gone for worlds she refused to eat for days. She’s old enough it was a health concern. I realized that... after Vitya’s accident... she has abandonment issues. So now I take her with me whenever I can. Luckily her fool of an owner got her enrolled in some program that lets her travel internationally without all that quarantine nonsense, just quarterly vet checkups to make sure she stays healthy.”

Yuri nodded, then remembered who he was talking to. “I take it you’re here for Yurio?”

Yakov blinked, then snorted as he contained a chuckle. “He probably hates that nickname. But yes. If nothing else I need to see his progress for myself. The videos you send help, but the boy needs a coach.”

Yuri nodded. “It’s our free day today, so he’s still asleep. Should I wake him?”

“Have you woken him before?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Then you know better than to take your life in your hands like that. Let him rest for now.”

Yuri nodded again, then realized they were still standing awkwardly in the genkan. “Come in, come in.”

The coach strode in, and removed his shoes before moving further inside. A rolling suitcase rested just inside the door. 

“Mom won’t have the breakfast prep done for a little while. If you’re hungry there are a couple earlier restaurants.”

“I can wait. I’d like to see what you’re feeding Yura anyway.”

“Understandable. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

“Katsuki?”

“Yes?”

“I had a bit of a hard time with the Japanese to Russian translations on the hotel websites. Do you know of one that accepts pets?”

Yuri smiled. “We’ll find a room for you here.”

“I couldn’t put you out like that. You’ve already been looking after Yura.”

“If you don’t mind a bit of dust I’m sure we’ll find a spot.”

Yakov huffed out something that sounded like acceptance. 

“This way,” Yuri said, guiding the Russian coach to the dining room. “Have a seat anywhere. I’ll let mom know you’re here.”

* * *

 

Breakfast came and went, and Yurio slept late. 

“Do you want to see where we’ve been training?” Yuri offered, trying to find some common ground for discussion between him and the Russian coach. 

Yakov nodded. “Da.”

“There’s a class right now, but it should be almost over by the time we get there.”

Yakov huffed and nodded again. Yuri cleared their plates and soon they stood near the door. 

Makkachin whined as they put on their shoes. 

“She can come,” Yuri offered. “It’s just far enough for a light jog, and I know the managers. They’ll let her rest behind the counter.”

Yakov looked to the poodle. “That’s a good idea. She might need to go out anyway.”

Yuri jogged in place to warm up as Yakov stepped out of the building. “Are you ok jogging? There’s a bike if you prefer.”

Yakov narrowed his eyes in a way that Yuri immediately recognized as a challenge from a coach. 

“How about you run, and I bike,” Yakov said. “Better keep up.”

Yuri huffed out a laugh. “You’re on. Don’t get lost if you get too far behind,” he countered.

Yakov stared, then started laughing. 

Yuri realized that all he’d ever seen of the man before was the stern coach. But Yuri wasn’t a skater any more, and he definitely wasn’t one of Yakov’s students. There was room for a sort of kinship, if nothing else. 

Yuri started laughing too, then jogged out of the courtyard as Yakov found his balance on the bike. 

“That photo of Yura...,” the coach asked as he caught up to Yuri, “How many rotations?”

“Quad flip,” Yuri replied. “He fell on landing, but the rotations were there.”

“He’s going to debut in the seniors with three quads?” There was a note of awe in Yakov’s voice. 

“Yes, assuming he can land the flip. But I think he’ll get there.”

“And the programs?”

“Both the spins and step sequences should be rated level four. His change foot combination spin is especially pretty and difficult.”

“What music did he talk you into?”

“One of the conditions were that Minako-sensei and I picked the music. We ended up with two pieces by Thomas Bergersen. The short program captures the loss he’s still feeling. The free gives him a path forward through the grief.”

Yuri paused at the bridge, suddenly needing to look out over the water. Yakov brought the bike to a stop. 

“He’s going to need help Yakov,” Yuri said absentmindedly. “Part of the beauty of these pieces is that they let him skate his true emotions, when he admits them to himself that is. But… he doesn’t know how to connect emotion to his skating yet, not really. I’m in no place to teach him that, and…”

“I think I understand.”

“He’s hurting Yakov. So am I, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you are too. We’re all stuck there with him, in this hell of a limbo between life and death. I at least have a bit of separation, I never knew him the way you two do.”

“They always described you as the skater with a heart of glass. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised how much this has impacted you.”

Yuri chuckled. “It’s an apt description. I shattered when I heard the news.”

Yuri started walking again. Yakov caught up with the bike then climbed off and walked with him. 

“Yurio’s been working hard. I think you’d be proud of how much work he’s put into this. But he’s doing the same thing I was. He’s gritting his teeth against the pain inside and using the ice as an outlet. For now he has this to hold on to, but…” Yuri sighed. “Watch him… don’t let him slide back. He might need to talk to a professional. He’s just a kid, and he doesn’t know how to process his feelings.”

“Him being away has helped me too,” Yakov said after several paces. He stared at the sky. “Lilia had just filed for divorce when Vitya’s accident happened. Maybe I should have stepped aside, but we were in the middle of the season. Things were pretty tense at the rink for several months. Yura’s outbursts only added to it, and I had a hard time being the one to de-escalate. Between the end of the season and his leaving things have settled, and I’ve been able to start my own healing.”

“He’s still going to be a handful,” Yuri sighed. 

“All teenagers are. I’ve trained enough of them over the years to know.” Yakov laughed. “The things Vitya used to get himself into…”

Yuri’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Sorry…” Yakov sighed. “I think that’s how I’m coping, just remembering all the things he did that annoyed me, and how he always came through unscathed. It gives me hope in a way, that he’ll come through this too.”

Yuri nodded and wiped away a tear that had formed. “Any change in prognosis?”

Yakov shook his head. “The doctors can’t explain why he’s still in a coma. They were able to reduce the pressure on his brain, and all indications are that there should be minimal long-term damage. By all rights he should be rinkside now, complaining about not being able to compete.”

“How bad were the injuries?”

“Bad enough. He was covered in casts for a while. There are enough pins in him he’ll set off metal detectors wherever he goes. But… once he wakes up he should be able to walk after physical therapy. Doctors even think he could perform in exhibitions as long as he doesn’t try to land anything harder than a double axel.”

Yuri nodded as they trudged up the hill toward Ice Castle. 

“And you Katsuki? What are you going to do?”

“I have a couple exhibitions lined up, but… I don’t know how long I can do them. I keep getting requests to include the double quad, and people outside the skating world just don’t know how hard that move is. I only even tried for it because I knew I was going to retire. I knew it would destroy my body.”

“All signs are that the ISU is going to take your advice and ban it.”

Yuri nodded. “I thought that might be the case, especially since they want me to talk to them about training it and more importantly landing it.”

“More and more quads are included every year, but the insanity has to stop. The sport is losing its artistry in the technical race.”

Yuri nodded. “I don’t want people training that jump. You’d never see careers spanning anything more than a handful of years if it became the norm. Most competitive skaters would burn out before they turned twenty. It’s just too hard on the body.”

“I agree. I think that’s part of the reason Yura came here. He wanted to try so badly, and I refused. I think he thought he could badger you into it.”

Yuri chuckled. “Instead he got five weeks of training a quad flip and two new programs.”

“All things considered… he’s much better off with your alternative.”

Yuri smiled and locked the bike to the rack outside the rink. 

Nishigori gaped when Yuri strolled in followed by the famous Russian figure skating coach. “Y… Yuri?”

Yuri smiled. “Nishigori, this is coach Yakov Felstman. Yakov, this is Nishigori Takeshi, a childhood friend.”

“A pleasure,” the coach grunted. 

Nishigori’s jaw flapped like a fish. “I… uh… wow… welcome!”

Yakov nodded. 

“We’re here so he can see where Yurio’s been training.”

“Go on in,” Nishigori responded. “Yuko’s just finishing up the class.”

“Is it ok if Makkachin takes over Vicchan’s old spot behind the counter?”

“Of course!”

Yuri guided the dog to the door that lead behind the counter, let her sniff around then pointed to a spot where Vicchan used to sleep. 

“Vicchan?” Yakov asked when Yuri returned to his side.

Yuri blushed. “Victor… but we called him Vicchan.”

“You named your dog after him?”

Yuri nodded. “Vicchan was a poodle too, looked a lot like Makkachin, except in mini size.”

Yakov chuckled. “You probably weren’t the only one.”

Yuri smiled softly at the coach. 

Yuri led Yakov to the glass doors and pushed them open. 

Yuko stood at center rink, eyes sharp as she took in the movement of a dozen children around her. 

“Very good Touma! I knew you could do it. You’ll be jumping like Yuri before you know it!” … “Axel! Lutz! Loop! Momma’s got eyes in the back of her head, knock it off!” … “It’s ok Hiroki, pick yourself back up and try again.”

The two men strode toward the barrier and watched Yuko teach. She was so absorbed that she didn’t even see them for several minutes, but her eyes lit up when she spied Yuri. 

“Yuri! The kids were just asking about…” her eyes traced to the man standing next to Yuri and she promptly fell on her ass from the shock. “Ya… Yakov Feltsman?” she sputtered, eyes wide. 

“Yuko-sensei?” Touma asked, skating unsteadily over. “Are you ok? Who’s the old man next to Yuri?”

“I’m fine Touma, thanks for asking,” she replied absentmindedly. “The man with Yuri is a very famous figure skating coach.”

The boy turned to gape. 

“Coach Yakov!” the triplets cried in unison, tripping over each over in their eagerness to be the first to reach the famous coach. 

Yakov stared down at the three identical girls, bemusement written across his face. 

“They know who I am?” he asked Yuri.

Yuri chuckled. “They’re skating otaku, the only ones as famous as the skaters are the coaches. Yurio is one of their idols right now, so of course they’d know you as well.”

Yakov immediately put on his coach mask. “What are your names girls?”

“Axel!”

“Lutz!”

“Loop!”

Yakov nodded in approval even as he crossed his arms. “I sure hope you can live up to your names. Who here can show me the best waltz jump?”

“Me!” the trio cried in unison as they all skated away to prepare for the jump. 

By that time Yuko had regained her feet and skated over, watching her girls try to impress the coach. “I… Mr. Feltsman… Sir… welcome.”

“This is my friend Nishigori Yuko,” Yuri said. 

Yakov grunted an acknowledgement, still in coach mode. 

Each of the triplets landed a clean waltz jump, and Yakov called out an approval that had the girls squealing in delight. 

Yuko quickly concluded the class for the rest of the students while Yakov seemed to enjoy playing coach to the triplets. Then Yuko hustled them off the ice as well and told them to go wait with their father. 

As soon as the students were out of sight Yakov let the coach mask down again. 

“It’s an honor to have you here,” Yuko said timidly. 

“He wanted to get a look at the rink where we’ve been training Yurio.”

Yuko nodded, relaxing slightly. “He’s been growing at an impressive rate sir. My girls watch his old performances almost every night, and as impressive as he was before… He’s going to have a brilliant senior debut.”

“Call me Yakov,” the coach insisted. “What’s with everybody calling me sir around here?”

Yuri chuckled. “It’s a respect thing, but you don’t seem the type to be comfortable with a Japanese honorific, so I think we’re all making due.”

Yakov grunted, then his eyes wandered the space. “It’s old, but well kept. Seems quiet too.”

Yuko nodded. “Thank you. We do try and keep the place in good shape.” She paused. “Yuri and Yurio train here during the day, when most people are at work or school. It’s usually just them and Minako-sensei.”

Yakov nodded. “The boy probably needed the one-on-one attention like that. It’s one of the downsides to having a large stable of skaters. I have assistant coaches, but everybody gets their turn and nobody truly has undivided attention unless we’re running a program.”

Yuri nodded. “It was the same in Detroit.”

“Speaking of which…” Yakov said, rounding on him. “How did you ever convince Cialdini to let you try for the double quad? Seems like something he’d have put a fast stop to.”

Yuri blushed. “He didn’t know. I practiced it in secret. The only one who knew was Phichit Chulanont. He stuck around to be able to call an ambulance in the very likely event that I hurt myself.”

Yakov stared, then burst into laughter. “And here I thought you were the type to just follow instructions Katsuki.”

Yuri smiled. “I had to win, so I had to do what was necessary, even if my coach didn’t like it.”

Yakov nodded. “I understand.”

They walked around the rink, and Yuko answered questions about the facility’s age and training amenities. 

They’d returned to the front and Yuri was sure that the coach would want to leave. However the Russian shocked him and Yuko both. 

“Are your girls still here?”

Yuko nodded. “They’re probably in the lobby with their father.”

“Get their skates on and bring them back out here. I’ll give them an hour or so of world class coaching.”

Yuko’s eyes widened. “Are… are you sure?”

Yakov nodded. “You’ve been taking care of one of mine, it only seems proper to repay the favor.”

Yuko rushed to the lobby to get the girls back into skates. 

“She wanted to go up to seniors,” Yuri said, leaning against the barrier. “I saw how much it pained her to give it up. But she never broke through like I did. The ladies field was more competitive. Then she got pregnant just out of high school. Not much room for skating with three babies around. I know she wouldn’t give the girls up for anything, but in another life she would have been competitive on the ladies singles circuit.”

Yakov nodded. “Nobody just names their kids after figure skating jumps unless the sport is in their blood.”

“She’s hoping to get them to a few competitions next year. I think they’ve each got a toe loop and a salchow, though a bit shaky. Their spins are good though, and with Minako-sensei on their team I’m sure they’ll have impressive step sequences too.”

“How old are they?”

“Seven.”

“Not even old enough for novice division yet.”

“No, but they’ll make a splash when they get there I think. They work hard, even if they are a handful.”

The girls tumbled back into the rink, awe plastered on their faces. “Yuri!” Axel asked, “Is it true? Is coach Yakov really going to teach us today?”

Yuri crouched to be at the girls’ eye level. “He is. But remember he’s a guest, and this is a very special favor. So listen to his instructions and do as he says. You’re very lucky. Yakov Feltsman only takes the best, so even an hour is more than most figure skaters get in their lives.”

The trio nodded, then spilled onto the ice, eager for every second of the famous coach’s time.

* * *

 

Yakov had an air of satisfaction as they walked back to Yu-topia. 

“Was it strange teaching beginners like that?” Yuri asked. 

Yakov laughed. “I haven’t coached pre-novice in almost twenty years. Vitya was one of the last. I forgot how eager they are at that age. Even by novice you can see the true competitors starting to harden, turning themselves into athletes chasing that gold.”

“Did they behave once you kicked me out?”

Yakov nodded. “They’re determined little girls. I think I’ll see them again in a few years facing off against some of my own.”

Yuri smiled. “The only problem is that they’ll have to dominate as a trio, or split to pairs or dance.”

Yakov laughed. “Don’t even start to scare me like that Katsuki. Leave some room for other countries.”

“I have to have some dedication to family friends, and national pride.”

Yakov chuckled again. “Do you worry about how much of an impact winning and stepping aside will have?”

Yuri shook his head. “I know it comes on the heels of Oda and Takahashi, but I was a dime-a-dozen skater. There are plenty of other talented skaters waiting in the wings.”

“Dime-a-dozen doesn’t make the Grand Prix Final, no matter where you landed. Dime-a-dozen doesn’t take top honors at Four Continents or Worlds. Dime-a-dozen doesn’t tame Yuri Plisetsky. You’re many things Katsuki, but dime-a-dozen isn’t one of them.”

“Yakov…”

“Listen to me Katsuki. I’m not going to try and change your mind, it’s better for my skaters if somebody with your talent stays retired. But you earned your spot at the top of the podium. I don’t know when Vitya will wake up to tell you himself, but he would have noticed and he would have seen you as a worthy competitor. Take that from one of the people who knows him best.”

Yuri sniffled and wiped a tear. 

“Again with the waterworks?”

Yuri let out a laugh. “Heart of glass… remember?”

Yakov clapped him on the back as they entered the courtyard. “Let’s go find Yura, and if he’s still asleep  _ I’ll _ be the one to wake him up.”

Yuri nodded and they entered the onsen. It was bustling, lunch customers dining, Mari running back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room. 

“Okaeri Yuri,” Mari said, noticing him. “Wash your hands and grab some plates. We’re busy today.”

“Excuse me Yakov,” Yuri said. “They need my help.”

Yakov grunted. “Just point me to Yura.”

“Neechan, where’s Yurio?”

“In the kitchen with Kaasan. He offered to do prep to get the food out faster.”

Yuri chuckled then motioned with his head to Yakov. “We’re headed the same direction. Yurio’s helping in the kitchen.”

Yakov gaped. “Yura’s… helping?”

Yuri nodded. “Another one of our conditions once we realized he’d be around for a while. He had to help around the onsen, but he took to the kitchens fast, and actually enjoys helping my mom in there. Somehow, even though my mom doesn’t know much English, they’ve found a way of communicating and she teaches him new recipes regularly.”

Yakov shook his head, even as he put on his coach face. Yuri chuckled, seeing the lecture coming. 

Yuri stepped into an alcove with uniforms and a sink. He quickly changed and washed his hands, then led the way to the kitchen. 

“Okaeri,” Yuri said before continuing in Japanese, “Mari said you needed help running food, but let me see if I need to take over for the kitten as he gets a scolding.”

Hiroko chuckled. “Ok.”

Yurio carried over a board of chopped vegetables and sat them next to where Hiroko worked. He turned back to start on his next task when he spied Yakov. His jaw dropped and he froze in place before putting on his customary scowl.

“Yuri! What were you thinking running off to Japan without a word to anyone?” the coach demanded. 

“What's it to you? Besides I've been here more than a month and you've just now come looking?” Yurio spat in return. 

“Just because I didn't come earlier doesn't mean I wasn't paying attention. Katsuki kept me informed of what was going on.”

Yurio rounded on Yuri. “You told him I was here!” The teen’s voice dripped with anger. 

Yuri sighed. “Of course I did. He’s your coach. Not only that, but did you think about your family? How would they feel if you disappeared and nobody knew where you went? Do you really want to make people worry? Do you want to make other people feel as abandoned as Victor’s accident left you?”

Yurio blanched. 

Yuri recoiled, knowing he’d gone too far. “Yurio, I’m sorry. But... he gave you space. He didn’t have to. You don’t have to like that I told him, but he gave you a lot of time once he knew you were here.”

Yurio stormed out of the kitchen. Both Yuri and Yakov turned to follow when Yuri felt a hand on his arm. He turned to see his mother shake her head. 

“Let him be baby boy.”

When Yakov took a few steps she approached the coach and stopped him too. “No. Alone.”

Yakov blinked, but deflated. He turned to Yuri. “Why does it feel like your mother knows him better than anybody else?”

Yuri smiled. “Because she’s a mother. Yuko’s the same. He’s really grown attached to them. If she says he needs space then we should give him some.”

“I’m not used to letting him mouth off like that.”

“He’ll come around.”

* * *

 

Makkachin whined until Yuri relented and allowed her to join him for his evening run to Ice Castle. Yurio had refused to come out of his room all afternoon, and only emerged long enough for dinner at Hiroko’s urging. 

The dog barked excitedly the entire way, wagging her tail and repeatedly jumping on Yuri. 

Yuri needed the relief of the ice as he pulled on his skates. His thoughts raced, wondering when Yurio would have to leave and what he would do after he was no longer in charge of the teen. 

He warmed up with compulsive figures, losing himself in the gentle repetition and changes of edge and foot. However, without meaning to he soon found himself skating Victor’s last free skate program. 

He was breathing hard when he stopped, and his head snapped to the barrier when unexpected applause echoed through the space. 

“Ya… Yakov…”

“You do the program justice Katsuki.”

Yuri rubbed his arms nervously. “I should have apologized a long time ago. I used the routine without consulting you, and obviously…”

Yakov leaned on the barrier. “I’ll admit that at first I didn’t approve, but Vitya would have loved it. Especially the way you skate it. You give it a different character, and it meshes so well with his, like two parts of a whole.”

Yuri blushed. 

“What are you doing here Katsuki?”

Yuri skated to the barrier and took a long drink of water before responding. He sighed. “A part of me still forgets exactly how much I revealed about myself during that press conference. Do you remember that anxiety disorder I mentioned?”

“Da.”

“This is how I cope. I skate it out.”

Yakov nodded lightly. “I think I understand, but… why now?”

“It’s nothing new, I’ve been here more nights than not since worlds. The ice is where I can let go. For just a bit I can forget the pain, and just move as I feel.”

“Something brought you here tonight though, didn’t it?”

Yuri looked away. “I know it’s time, but… I’ve been so focused on Yurio that I’ve been able to push aside the pain. I’d like to think that he’s healed here as well.”

“He has to go back, he has a debut to prepare for.”

“I know. I had avoided talking to him about it though. I think that’s part of why he blew up today. We all knew this was temporary, but we were both escaping. Your arrival is just a reminder that the time was limited.”

Yakov sighed. “I’ll be here for several days. After that I’ll decide if he can stay a bit longer, or if he needs to return to Russia with me.”

Yuri nodded. “I wish I knew how to make this easier on him, but I’m barely holding on myself.”

* * *

 

“Why does  _ he _ have to come?” Yurio demanded as he and Yuri jogged to Ice Castle. 

“Because he’s your coach Yurio. I’m one-half of your choreography team at best. He needs to see these programs for himself.”

“If you were in contact you could have just sent video.”

“And we did, but video only goes so far. At some point you’re going to have to return to Russia, and when you do he needs to know what you’re skating.”

Yurio growled in frustration. 

“You’ve worked hard, he’ll see that. He’ll know that you haven’t been slacking off here.”

Yurio stopped at the bridge, the fisherman in the distance to his left. “I don’t want to go back Katsudon.”

Yuri stopped near the teen. “Yurio…”

“When I think of that place all I see is his stupid gray hair, the way he’d hone in on an element and offer guidance. Those flashy gold blades. I don’t want to go back. It felt empty, and at the same time he was everywhere.”

“We all have our demons Yurio.”

“You don’t know him.”

“No, but… Yurio, I was younger than you are now when I first put a poster of him on my wall. I read every article I could get my hands on. I don’t know him, but he’s loomed large in my life for half of it. I know what you’re trying to do. I tried it too, and it failed. I took down every poster, tried to not think about it. But the pain is still there. At some point I’m going to have to face this head on, you will too.”

“Katsudon? Why does it hurt so much? I lost my father when I was so young and it didn’t hurt like this. I lost my babushka two years ago and it wasn’t like this either.”

“It’s because he’s both gone, and he’s not. There hasn’t been closure. He could still wake up tomorrow, or be like this for the rest of his life. It’s hard to mourn for someone who’s still alive.”

Yurio nodded, blond strands blowing in front of his face. “What should I do?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” Yuri sighed. “You might not like this suggestion, but… when you go back, find a counselor. You’ve run here, and I can see it helped. But here isn’t a long term solution. There’s only so much comfort in escaping. You need to face your grief.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

“No, not yet anyway. I don’t know how to face it yet. But I know I will.”

“Aren’t you tired of running?”

Yuri smiled at his protege. He reached out and ruffled Yurio’s hair, which made the teen snarl. “Not yet.”

Yurio blushed, then started running toward Ice Castle again. 

* * *

 

“Again Yura!” Yakov ordered as Yuri and Minako watched. “Let’s see some definition in that step sequence.”

Yuri could see Yurio about to argue, but instead he pulled the hair elastic from around his wrist and tied back his bangs. He gathered speed and launched into the complicated step sequence that Minako had choreographed. 

Yakov grunted approval as Yurio moved. “You’ve really optimized these steps for his frame. He flits across the ice.”

Minako nodded. “Of course. Take advantage of his stature before he grows out of it.”

Yakov sighed. “It’s still not right though. Katsuki. I want to see you do it.”

Yuri blinked several times, then nodded. “Ok.”

Yurio finished the sequence again and turned to Yakov. 

“Better,” the coach grumbled. “But something’s missing. Katsuki, you’re up.”

“Wait!” Yurio protested. “Why’s Katsudon gonna skate it?”

“Because he’s one of your choreographers, that’s why. I want to see it as it was designed. I’ve only seen your interpretation so far.”

Yurio scowled, but moved to rest at the barrier as Yuri warmed back up. After a few minutes and several quads to get his legs ready he took his place. Minako was about to start the music, when he held up a hand. “Minako-sensei. Will you record this so that they can review as they need when they return to Russia?”

Minako nodded and set up the camera. A minute later she signalled that she was ready. 

Yuri nodded, and Minako started the music for the short program. 

Yuri moved, using his whole body to express his emotion. He reached the end of the rink just as the strings started a beat that felt like the ticking of a clock. He launched the step sequence, building, growing. The viola came in, and he was the sand in a broken hourglass, spread by the wind as the grains fell, a thousand missed opportunities. The cello added its voice, and he moved to a camel spin, swirling in the depths of despair. A gentle swell of strings, and he launched the quad flip at the climax, thinking of the person he’d lost. He followed it with a flying sit spin, then a quad toe-triple toe combination at a plateau. The music backed off, and the darkness closed in. A triple axel at the final swell, then the change foot combination spin to finish as the music faded out. 

Yuri held the final pose for a moment, then turned to where the others watched from the barrier. 

“Now you go do that Yura,” Yakov barked when Yuri picked up his water bottle. 

“Huh?” Yurio gave Yakov a look. “I have been.”

Yakov barked a laugh. “You’re a robot out there in comparison, totally flat, and your scores would reflect that.”

“I am not!” 

“What are you thinking about when you skate it?”

“How to get through it, it’s a hellish program.”

“Wrong!” Yakov bellowed. “Katsuki! What were you thinking about?”

Yuri blushed. “I… uh…”

“Oh just spit it out,” Yakov sighed. “Both me and your ballet teacher here already know. It’s just Yura who’s blind.”

“Hey!” Yurio protested. 

Yuri sighed. “I was thinking about Victor, and how I’d missed my chance. How if I’d worked harder, pushed past my anxiety sooner… That maybe I could have reached my dream.”

Yakov nodded. “And it showed.”

“How the hell were you thinking of all that, and not focus on how hard the program is?” Yurio demanded. 

Yuri shrugged. “I don’t  _ need _ to think of the motions, because they’re an extension of my feelings.”

“Huh?”

Yuri sighed and deflated. Minako patted his hand. 

“Yura, I think it’s time to go to a temple,” Yakov stated. 

“Huh!”

“You heard me. To the temple, you need to figure out your own feelings before you can skate them.”

“What the hell!”

Yakov crossed his arms over his chest and stared down the teen. “Katsuki and Okukawa choreographed a program that will wow judges, but you can’t win like this. Go discover what this program means to  _ you _ . Only then will you be able to do it justice.”

Yurio bristled and stormed off. 

Yakov sighed as the glass doors closed, and Minako left to guide their charge to the nearest temple. 

* * *

 

Yuri found Yurio shadowing Hiroko in the kitchen, watching as she prepared the ingredients for miso soup. 

Yuri leaned on the door frame until the teen noticed him. Yurio immediately scowled 

“What do you want?” he snarled.

Hiroko turned and put her hand on Yurio’s arm. “Yura… nice.”

Yurio deflated. He nodded. 

“I’m checking up on you since you never made it back to the rink.”

“Why should I? Yakov obviously prefers your skating to mine.”

“He never said that, he said you needed more emotion. Besides. I’m retired. You know that, he knows that.”

“Why!”

Yuri blinked. “What?”

“Why? Why are you retired? You can still skate! Even without the double quad you’d wipe the floor with everybody!” Yurio angrily pressed his palm to his eye. “Why are you leaving too?”

Something clicked in Yuri at hearing Yurio’s anguished tone. He pulled the teen into an embrace. “I’m sorry Yurio, but I have to do this for me.”

Yurio’s fists bunched the fabric of Yuri’s shirt. “I… I thought…”

“That I’d come back if I saw a challenger?”

Yurio nodded against Yuri’s chest. 

Yuri lifted his gaze to see his mother shooing him out of the kitchen. He nodded and guided Yurio to the teen’s room. 

He shut the door, sat Yurio against the wall, and pulled out his phone. He opened the facetime app, and called a familiar face. 

“Yuri!” Phichit cried. 

“Hey Phichit-kun. Sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

Phichit smiled. “It’s ok.  I know you’ve been busy.”

Yuri squinted. “It’s light there? You’re not in Detroit are you?”

“No, I moved back to Bangkok for the year, since I’d be back and forth for press and official events anyway.” 

“It makes sense. I’ll have to catch up, but do you have time for a favor?”

“Sure! I’m done for the day. What do you need?”

Yuri held the phone so that Yurio was in the camera. “You’ve heard of Yuri Plisetsky, right?”

“From Russia. Junior World Champion. Of course I have.”

“Phichit. He wants to know why I retired. And… I think you could tell him better than I can.”

Phichit stared, eyes flicking to the teary-eyed teen. He nodded. “Hand the phone over. But you have to leave the room, and I’m allowed to tell some stories of our time in Detroit.”

“PG thirteen stories only.”

“No promises.”

Yuri sighed, then handed the phone over to Yurio. 

“This is Phichit Chulanont. He knows better than anybody why I retired, even better than I do in a way. He was there for everything.”

Yurio gave Yuri a confused look. 

“My retirement hurt him too Yurio. He’ll understand, I promise.”

Yurio nodded and accepted the phone. Yuri watched for a moment, then slipped from the room as his best friend counseled his protege.

* * *

 

Yakov grunted in approval as Yurio finished his final spin. “What did you do Katsuki?”

“It wasn’t me,” Yuri admitted. “I had him talk to Phichit Chulanont.”

Yakov shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Who  _ won’t _ have an influence on this boy’s performance by the time the season starts?”

“Christophe Giacometti?” Yuri ventured. 

Yakov sighed. “At least there are some minor miracles, though at this rate it wouldn’t surprise me if he stuck his nose in too.”

Yuri smiled. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you.”

“We are. It’s time.”

Yuri bit his lip but couldn’t restrain a sigh. 

“Why not become a coach Katsuki? You’ve done well with Yura for having no experience.”

Yuri shook his head. “We shared a sort of pain, kindred spirits in a way. But it’s not for me. It’s time for me to move on myself. I can’t hide forever.”

Yakov nodded. “It’s been six months. I think we’re all at that point. We can’t stay stuck in that hell you mentioned, the one between life and death, for much longer. If we do it’ll swallow us too.”

Yuri nodded. “I know… but… I’m not there yet either.”

“None of us are.” He turned his attention to Yurio. “Yura! That was better. Do it again, but more of whatever you were feeling.”

Yurio nodded to take his starting position again. 

“You’ll get there Katsuki, in your own way.”

Yuri sighed and watched as Yurio finally started to skate his own emotion. 

“Yura can stay until the assignments come out.”

Yuri turned to look at Yakov. “Really?”

The coach grunted a nod. “It’ll probably be another week or two. Everybody is expecting them mid-June. He’s found something here, and the longer he’s immersed in it the better. But by then it’ll be time for him to really prepare for his debut.”

The glass doors opened and Minako strode in, a strained look on her face. 

“Good morning Minako-sensei,” Yuri said, bowing slightly as she took her place at the barrier. 

“Good morning Yuri,” she replied with a sigh. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Just calling in a favor. It was harder than expected.”

“Oh?”

“Yurio’s going to need a ballet teacher who can really keep an eye on his step sequence in Saint Petersburg. I’d hoped an old friend could do it, but it was harder than I thought.”

Yuri couldn’t miss the sudden strained sound from Yakov. 

Minako heard it too. “I won’t pretend it’ll be easy for you Yakov,” she said. “But Lilia is the best. She’s agreed to at least look at Yurio for me.”

Yakov nodded. “She makes the most sense.”

“Who’s Lilia?”

“My ex-wife,” Yakov sighed. 

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

“Makkachin! Come!” Yakov demanded of the poodle. 

Makkachin looked at Yuri and whined. She moved behind his legs, trying to hide from the coach. 

“Is she normally like this when it’s time to travel?”

Yakov shook his head. “We hadn’t made many trips before coming here, but she was always eager.”

“Hand me the leash?”

Makkachin sat calmly while Yuri clipped the lead to her collar, but whined and pulled as soon as he handed it to Yakov. 

Yuri blinked and knelt in front of the poodle. “Don’t you want to go home?”

Makkachin lifted one paw and rested it on Yuri’s shoulder. She whined, eyes flicking between Yuri and Yakov. 

“I can’t go with girl,” Yuri said softly. 

“Come on Makkachin,” Yakov tried again, but the dog’s whining intensified as soon as Yuri took a few steps away. 

It was the pained howls that broke Yuri’s heart. 

“Yakov…” he ventured. “Why… why not leave her?”

“What!”

Yuri rubbed his elbow nervously. “I’ll bring her back once Victor wakes up, or if she seems to have problems without you. But she seems to want to stay.”

Yakov looked down at the dog and dropped the lead. Makkachin immediately ran to Yuri. Yakov sighed. 

“Ok. As soon as Victor wakes up he’ll want her back though.”

Yuri nodded. “I understand. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her in his absence.”

Yakov ran a hand over his head. “I just hope that Vitya’s family understands. But… I think it’s better she stay happy.”

Yuri nodded and knelt again to scratch behind Makkachin’s ears. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with Yakov girl?”

Makkachin put her paws on Yuri’s shoulders.

“I think that’s your answer,” the coach grunted. 

Yuri nodded and stood, taking back the lead. “I’ll walk you to the bus stop.”

They walked in silence for several minutes. 

“Thank you Katsuki.”

“Hmm?”

“For Yura’s programs, and for helping him when he needed it most.”

Yuri nodded. “He helped me too you know.”

“Regardless. I see now just how much he needed to get away.”

“It’s not going to be easy for him to go back.”

“I know, but it needs to happen. He’ll have to face his past eventually. At some point running causes more harm than good.”

Yuri nodded. 

“That goes for you too. You said you don’t want to coach. What will you do after Yura leaves?”

“I’ve got a handful of photography shoots scheduled.”

“If you change your mind about coaching, let me know. I’ll find a place for you as an assistant under me.”

Yuri smiled. “Thank you sir, but I think my path is going in a different direction.”

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir?’”

Yuri laughed. “It’s a hard habit to break.”

The bus pulled up and the doors opened. 

Yakov stuck his hand out. “I’ll see you later Katsuki.”

“Thank you, for allowing me to work with Yurio.” Yuri replied, accepting the handshake.

Yakov nodded. “You’re welcome to come visit us in Saint Petersburg any time.”

Yuri nodded. “I might take you up on that, one day.”

Yakov nodded then boarded the bus. 

There was a warm press against Yuri’s leg as the bus pulled away. He looked down at where Makkachin leaned against him. “I guess you made your choice girl. Let’s go home.”

Makkachin barked in excitement and led the way back to the onsen. 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Yeah, everybody is hurting still. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	9. New Path - Summer 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yurio learns his Grand Prix Series assignments, then after the teen's departure Yuri dives into his new role as photographer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

“Yes!” Minako cried as Yurio held the finishing pose of his long program. “That was fantastic, now do it again.”

“Huh?” Yurio demanded. 

“You heard me.” MInako crossed her arms. “Do it again. You’ve finally figured out whatever it is that drives you through these programs. Hold onto it, prove to me that you can keep it even when you’re drained. You’re a one-man performance, but you have to act without words. You have to be able to exude emotion in every movement, every time, or the show will fall flat.”

“Huh?” Yurio repeated. “I’m not an actor, I’m a skater.”

Minako sighed and turned to Yuri. Yuri chuckled and took off on a lap of the ice to warm up. 

“Come over here Yurio.”

Yurio skated to the barrier, eyes on Yuri. 

“We’ll start easy.” Minako said as Yuri passed. “Yuri! Grief!” she called across the ice. 

Each of Yuri’s limbs weighed a ton, he could barely drag himself from bed due to overwhelming sadness. His arms spread skyward, begging for reprieve, and fell again when denied. He held his face, barely holding in the tears. 

“Good!” Minako called. “Discovery!”

The world was vast and endless. Yuri gazed into the depths of infinity, reaching, striving for something always just beyond his grasp. He wanted more, to know more, to learn more. He was in uncharted territory and he wanted to find its secrets. 

“Fun!”

Yuri’s feet were light beneath him, racing, trying to hold onto the feeling. His arms spread in joy, relishing the moment. His spins were fast and tight, swirling and showing his excitement. 

“Love!” Yurio called. 

Yuri paused. It was the one emotion he didn’t want to face. 

“Yurio, I don’t think…” Minako started. 

“It’s ok Minako-sensei,” Yuri interrupted. “I’ll do it. We’re proving a point aren’t we? We’re more than skaters, we’re actors telling a story in mere minutes.”

Minako sighed as Yuri started moving again. 

Yuri had a hard time settling into the mood, then he thought of Victor. Platinum hair swirled as he spun, he dove into the deep pools of blue in the Russian’s eyes. He was captivated, wanted, needed more. He called to his idol.  _ See me. Look what you mean to me. _

For a brief moment he almost felt as if the other man was really watching. 

“Ok Yuri!” Minako called. “That’s enough.”

Yuri took several deep breaths as he came back to himself. He blinked several times, wondering why the world was blurrier than normal, then realized he was crying. 

“Katsudon…” 

“That’s the difference between acting, and really holding the emotion,” Minako sighed. “You ok kiddo?”

Yuri nodded as he skated to the barrier. “Yeah, but… I think I’m done for the day.”

Minako nodded. “Ok. I’ll keep working with Yurio.”

* * *

 

“Congratulations Yurio!” everybody cheered while the twins pulled the strings on poppers, showering the teen in stringers and confetti. 

Yurio blushed slightly. “Guys, it’s just the assignments.”

“Nonsense!” Minako declared. “It’s your senior debut. That’s a reason to celebrate.”

Yuri nodded. “Savor it Yurio, you only move up to seniors once. This is when you’ll make that first mark at the next level.”

The triplets were explaining the importance of the assignments to Yuri’s parents, while the Nishigoris were setting up the television for streaming. They’d planned to send Yurio off with the beginnings of research of who he’d be skating against. 

Mari made an impromptu drum roll on the table as everybody settled down. 

“Yurio will be skating at…” Minako began with a flourish, “Skate Canada, and Rostelecom!”

Everybody cheered at the declaration. 

Hiroko reached over and took Yurio’s hand. “We watch,” she said with a soft smile. 

Yurio’s lip trembled for a minute before he moved over and hugged the woman who’d become one of his his adopted mothers. Yuko moved in on the other side to also hug the teen. 

Yuri smiled and gave them a minute before continuing on. 

“Now Yurio, you’ll be against JJ Leroy and Emil Nekola in both events, and both are strong competitors.”

Yurio straightened and turned his attention to Yuri. 

“JJ was third in the Final last year, and barely missed the podium at both Four Continents and Worlds. I think that was partially because the media was still hounding him. He’s arrogant and won’t let that keep him down long, so expect a strong comeback this season.”

Yurio nodded. 

“Emil is good too,” Yuri continued. “He’s got two quads already, and rumored to be close on a third. His stamina is going to be a factor as well. He’s one of the few that can put the harder jumps at the back half. If he’s having a good day he’ll rival your technical scores.”

“Tch.”

Yuri chuckled. “You’ll also be against Michele Crispino in Moscow. He took fifth last final, and placed well in worlds. He’s going to challenge your PCS scores. He skates with a singular emotional devotion, and it makes each of his programs stand out in terms of artistry.”

“He doesn’t have many quads though,” Yurio argued. 

Yuri shook his head. “No, but trust me. I’ve been up against him. He’s not one to underestimate.”

Yurio released a loud sigh. 

Yuri chuckled. “I think the only other one to worry about in the qualifiers is Seung-gil Lee. He’s rumored to debut a quad loop this year, and the guy’s a walking calculator from what I’ve seen of his performances. He’ll alter on the ice for higher scores. He suffers for it in PCS, as it messes up his transitions, but if he thinks he can get higher technical points he will.”

Yurio nodded. 

“Ok,” Yuri continued. “That’s the qualifiers. Now, who do I expect for the final… Besides you I think Christophe Giacometti is a given, probably JJ Leroy too. I’d be surprised if Otabek Altin doesn’t make it. Either Mickey Crispino or Emil Nekola are good bets, and I’m pulling for my friend Phichit. I think he’s there too.”

Yurio’s face developed a hardened edge as the competitive side of him came out. “So I could be against the same people at every step?”

Yuri nodded. “It happens. Keep an eye on their performances, and keep an open mind about your own skating. What can you do to squeeze points if you need? Can you adjust jump composition, or get higher GOE?”

Yurio nodded. “Got it.”

Yuri smiled. “Good. Now, let’s watch some old performances and pick out signature moves to keep an eye out for,”

* * *

Yuri walked Yurio through the Fukuoka airport. The teen kept his eyes to the floor, his normal attitude muted.

“Do I have to go back?” he finally asked as they neared the security checkpoint. 

Yuri put his hand on the teen’s back. “It’s time Yurio. I’m not a coach, and you’ve got a debut to prepare for.”

“You  _ could _ be a coach,” Yurio argued. 

Yuri smiled and shook his head. “I’ve thought about it. But it’s not for me, at least not right now.”

“But you said I helped.”

Yuri turned the teen to face him. “You did help Yurio. But I need to move on and so do you. Yakov is ready to show off the new ace of Russian figure skating. He even said he’s trying to have the Russian Skating Federation name you to a competition in the challenger series. He knows what he’s doing, and you’re at a point in your career when that experience is vital.”

“I don’t want to go… He’s still there.”

Yuri brushed Yurio’s fringe aside. “I understand, but loss is part of growing up. You need to face it.”

Yurio bit his bottom lip. 

“I’ll be there in a few months to take photos of you in your outfits, and I’ll make your series events one way or another. This isn’t goodbye.” Yuri pulled Yurio into an embrace. “You have my number. Call if you need.”

Yurio nodded, but didn’t respond. 

“Hey, training under Yakov will be easy now, won’t it? I’m a masochist, remember?”

Yurio laughed. “Are you even human?”

“Last I checked.”

Yurio tightened his grip around Yuri’s middle. “I’m going to break your records Katsudon.”

“And I’ll cheer for you when you do.” Yuri ruffled Yurio’s hair. “Better get going or you’ll miss your flight. Go show your rinkmates the new Yuri Plisetsky. Make yourself a worthy successor.”

Yurio sniffled and nodded against Yuri. “Da. I’ll win the Grand Prix Final. I’ll do something even Victor couldn’t do.”

“If anybody can, it’s you.”

An alarm on Yuri’s phone went off. “It’s time Yurio.”

Yurio nodded again, then moved to the security line. 

Yuri watched until the teen was out of sight. He then sent one text to carry Yurio until he reached Russia. 

_ You’re Russia’s new ace. Show the world the beautiful skating that I know you’re capable of. _

* * *

 

Yuri skated figures around the rink. The sun had gone down hours before, but he didn’t want to leave. 

The onsen felt empty without Yurio. 

Makkachin whined from the barrier. Yuri skated over and scratched behind her ears. “Are you ready to go home girl?”

She whined again and flicked her eyes from him to the doors and back. 

“Ok…” 

Yuri slipped on his blade guards and walked over to the bench to take off his skates. Makkachin nudged his shoulder until he scratched behind her ears again. 

He turned off the lights, locked the doors behind him then jogged home. He was considering leaving Makkachin at the onsen and going back out to Minako’s studio when his phone buzzed with a text message. He smiled when he saw it was from Yurio.

_ Gave Mila your rates and showed her the photos you took of her at worlds. She wants her photos taken too when you come to Saint Petersburg. _

Yuri sighed. He both wanted to go and not. He wished it was Victor’s photo he was taking. 

Something about the prospect of visiting his idol’s home city while the man remained in a coma twisted in Yuri’s gut. He bit his lip as he composed a reply. 

_ Got it. I’ll see if I left enough padding in my schedule, or if I’ll have to plan an extra day.  _

A reply came almost immediately. 

_ Hey Katsudon, look… Yakov has asked our events team to organize an exhibition. It’s a little later than we agreed on, but I think we should switch to then. We’ll have an audience… and... you won’t have to come to the training side of the Sports Palace. It might… be a bit easier on you. _

Yuri let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t wanted to voice it, but the thought of going to the rink where Victor had trained had terrified him. Even another rink in the same complex would be some improvement. 

_ I think I’d like that Yurio.  _

The phone buzzed again within seconds. 

_ I’ll let Yakov know.  _

* * *

 

Within a couple days Yuri had been asked to perform as a special guest in the exhibition. He agreed on the condition that he was first, and that whomever he was photographing was late enough to allow him to switch gears. 

Then Yakov asked him to skate Victor’s  _ Stay Close to Me _ . 

Yuri spent an hour crying, wondering if he’d be able to skate Victor’s program there. However, in the end he agreed. It felt more natural to give that tribute there than to skate his new exhibition piece. 

The exhibition was scheduled for late August, just before the new season started. 

* * *

 

Yuri glanced at his suitcase, then to where Makkachin rested on the bed. She kept flicking her eyes to the suitcase then to him and back. 

Yuri walked over and scratched her ear. “It’ll just be a few days girl. Kaasan and Mari will take good care of you, then I’ll be back. I don’t want to have to put you in crates in cargo holds more than necessary. If you don’t do so well then we’ll reconsider whether you come with me or not.”

Makkachin whined softly and angled her head for more scratches. 

Yuri walked back over to his desk and rummaged through his camera bag. His lenses were all in their correct places, and he had plenty of spare batteries and memory cards. He was getting ready to close it up when a flash of blue caught his eye. 

It was under a lens he hadn’t used since Worlds. He lifted up the lens and saw a lone memory card underneath. For a second he wondered how it had gotten there, then remembered he’d taken it out just before shooting as it was a smaller card than he’d wanted to use. 

He hadn’t even looked at the photos. 

“Well I should clean it up and make sure it’s empty if nothing else,” he said to himself as he slid the thin piece of plastic into his computer. 

The memory card was filled with his prep photos. Scenic shots of Tokyo, Phichit goofing off during practice. But it was the ones toward the end that made him realize he was crying again. 

The empty rink, focused on a center ice that was devoid of life. He flicked through a couple photos, and slowly started to realize that it perfectly captured how he felt. Victor Nikiforov was missing from the ice, and from Yuri’s heart. 

He lost track of time staring at the photo. 

He shook his head when Makkachin barked excitedly. He looked at her, eyes bright and hopeful. 

“There’s one more photo girl, then I’ll take you out.”

Yuri advanced to the last photo on the card, and paused. 

The flare was back, the same odd shape that had been in the photo of Yurio. It was smaller, but the same silver color. Yuri ran over the possibilities in his mind. He knew he’d used different lenses, and it still stubbornly refused to look like a reflection off dust. 

“Strange…” Yuri mused. “I wonder if there’s an intermittent flaw in the camera body.”

* * *

 

“Yuri!” Phichit cried, glomping him. 

“Hi Phichit-kun.”

“Welcome to Bangkok!”

Yuri smiled. Phichit had asked him to visit over and over, and with nothing else planned he’d finally relented. “How’s it feel to be home again?”

Phichit grinned. “It’s nice to not have to speak English every day, and I’d missed home more than I’d realized.”

“I know the feeling.”

Phichit guided Yuri through the bustling airport and to an equally packed street beyond. They piled into a taxi and Phichit gave the address is rapid Thai. 

“Are you sure it’s ok if I stay with you?” Yuri asked. “I can get a hotel.”

“Nonsense! We may not be rich, but we have enough room to house my best friend for a visit.”

Yuri smiled, then leaned in and hugged his friend. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. “Thanks Phichit-kun.”

Phichit ran a soothing hand up and down Yuri’s back. “Still fighting it?”

Yuri nodded. “As soon as Yurio left the depression edged in again.”

“Getting away ought to help.”

Yuri nodded. 

“I’ve got my short program costume.”

“Really?” Yuri perked up. 

Phichit nodded. “Red and gold, just like you suggested. Did you bring your camera?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Great! I’ll reserve some solo time, and you can take my promotional photos.”

“I’d like that.”

* * *

 

Word had gotten around that Phichit was practicing his short program in costume during reserved ice time. Family and friends filled the area between the barrier and the wall, and shoppers loitered as well. 

Yuri decided that the crowd provided the perfect backdrop as he skated around in search of his vantage point. 

A cheer through the crowd as Phichit appeared, resplendent in the red and gold outfit, a faint shimmer of a gold powder on his face and makeup immaculate. 

Yuri smiled. “Ok, you’ve shown me your program once before. Any particular element you want me to focus on?”

Phichit chuckled. “Whatever you think looks best.”

“Ok.” Yuri skated over to where he’d picked his angle. “I’m on the judges’ side so that the audience is in the background,” he called. 

Phichit nodded and took his position. “Make me beautiful Yuri!”

“That would be a step down Phichit,” Yuri called back. 

Phichit laughed, then the music started. Phichit danced, and Yuri captured the movements. 

* * *

 

Yuri hadn’t paid much attention to his email while in Thailand, but as soon as he returned home it was obvious that Morooka had been trying to get in touch. The reporter had even left a message with the onsen. 

They met several days later in a small cafe near the television station. 

“Thanks for meeting me,” Morooka said after a bow. 

Yuri returned the gesture and they took their seats. “I must admit I was surprised to see so many emails from you.”

Morooka sighed. “I did some asking around, and I learned through the grapevine that you hadn’t applied for your media credentials for the season. Are you not planning to photograph figure skating any longer?”

Yuri blinked several times. “I’ve got several shoots lined up for promotional photos.”

Morooka sighed again. “That’s fine for now, but what about once everybody is done and competing? Do you really think you can make a career from a handful of shoots each summer? You’ve got real skill Katsuki. People want to see your photos.”

Yuri ran his finger over the rim of his glass. “It’s already too late though, isn’t it? Wouldn’t most of the press have been decided by now? The Nebelhorn is only two-and-a-half months away.”

“We’ve only got one competitor in the Nebelhorn this year, in the ladies division. So we’ll send a small crew, but the station is keeping me here for the Tokyo Regional, which is at the same time.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“There are still a handful of media credentials left for the Grand Prix and Challenger Series. My higher-ups are willing to pull strings to make sure you get in, but time is running out.”

Yuri’s eyes went wide. He blinked several times in shock. “Your station is willing to go out on a limb like that for a freelancer?”

“I told you, the public loved your photos. The station wants even more this year. They want to do pop-up galleries, and they want your name in the credits… if you’re willing to go back out there.”

“I… uh… wow…”

“There is one catch.”

Yuri swallowed. “Ok?”

“They want first dibs and twenty-four hour exclusivity on whatever photos I choose. Anything I pass on you’re free to do with as you will, and you can license any of my picks to additional parties after the time period has elapsed.”

Yuri took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d been so focused on Yurio he thought he’d missed his chance to get credentials. 

“I think I’d have to set a number or percentage on exclusive photos,” he said after a minute. “Not that I don’t trust you, but that’s one of those details that is better spelled out in any agreement.”

Morooka nodded. “That’s fair. On paper you’ll be one of ours, but we’ll work out plenty of leeway. My web editors are pushing hard to get you.”

Yuri chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Ok. I’ll still need to see the terms of the contract, but unless they’re bad… I’m in.”

* * *

 

“Yuri!” Sara Crispino called from across the square, Michele glaring a few paces behind her. 

Yuri waved sheepishly and walked over to the twins. 

“Thanks for agreeing to take our photos!” Sara cried, hugging Yuri. 

“Sara!” Mickey protested. 

Sara rolled her eyes at her brother. “Mickey, it’s Yuri. You’ve competed against him for years. Has he ever made a move on me?”

Mickey grumbled and turned his glare onto Yuri. 

Yuri sighed. He was about to spend the majority of two days with the twins and decided to get the overbearing distrust out of the way early. 

“Look Michele, I’m sure you have plenty of other men to worry about. Sara is great, but she’s just a friend to me. I’m interested in men. So can we work together now without you worrying about me trying to steal your sister?”

“Oh?” Sara teased. “Does that mean I need to be the protective one for once?”

Michele paled.

Yuri laughed, then sighed. There was only one man he wanted. “Don’t worry…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I… well… he’s not exactly my type.”

Sara backed off a couple paces while Michele looked around for something to catch his attention. 

“Sorry,” Sara said after a minute. “I should have remembered.”

Yuri shook his head. “No, it’s ok. It’s an understandable joke.”

There were several minutes of silence before Yuri spoke again. “So let’s see your programs so I can get a feel for where I’ll want to be. Unless you just want to run individual elements. I can work with that too.”

Sara nodded and the trio started walking toward the ice club where the twins trained. 

“Have you two always trained in Torino?” Yuri asked as they walked. 

Sara shook her head. “We’re from Napoli, but moved up here after high school when we switched to our current coach.”

Yuri smiled. “I remember that move, leaving home for your sport. America was a big change though.”

Sara laughed. “Did you learn enough Italian from Celestino to be able to get around Italy?”

Yuri chuckled. “Only if half-muttered curses are enough.”

Michele smiled at the joke and Sara’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh!” she said after a few seconds. “Tomorrow we won’t be at the club.”

“Ok…” Yuri replied, cocking his head to the side. 

Sara grinned. “We booked the Palavela!”

Yuri blinked a couple times before the name registered. “You mean the venue from the 2006 games?”

Sara nodded. “It’s a tourist destination, so there are always people milling about. We’ve got three hours of reserved ice. Will that be enough?”

Yuri nodded. “I should think so.” He grinned. “I’ve never been there before.”

“Oh you’ll love it!” Sara laughed. After a couple seconds she quieted though. “It’s where he won his first Olympic gold you know.”

Yuri’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Sara…” Michele warned. 

Sara smiled at her brother. “I hope you find something there Yuri. You said you were always reaching for him. Maybe being in such an important place will let you connect somehow.”

Yuri smiled softly. “I hope so too…”

* * *

 

It was early and the Palavela hadn’t opened to the public yet. The Crispino twins were getting ready, leaving Yuri to wander around in search of the best places to photograph from. He knew which ones he wanted from the vantage point of the ice, but he also wanted several from above as well. 

He wandered the stands, choosing the best locations, and was about to head back down when a chill passed through him. 

Victor had won his first Olympic gold in the building. 

He remembered the sense of catharsis in Tokyo, forcing himself to acknowledge the ice without Victor. He climbed up to where the press booths would have been during the games. Yuri had collected a number of photos of Victor that year, but his favorite was of him in his free skate outfit, the sequined feathers glittering as he performed an arabesque spiral, his spread arms giving the impression of flying. 

Yuri had to stand on a chair to get the position right, but he found the proper angle and took several photos of the empty ice. He sat after he was satisfied, and had to hold back tears as he reviewed them. 

It was in the third photo that he saw the same artifact as he’d noticed before. It was still silver in color, but larger. He studied it. It was in a different place each time, so it was unlikely a scratch on the glass or anything easily explained. 

He stared, the silver was the same color as Victor’s hair, and it only reminded him that the other man was still in a coma. 

Yuri jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He quickly wiped tears from his eyes as he looked up at Sara Crispino. 

“Are you ok?” she asked softly. Her costume glittered as she moved to look at Yuri better. 

Yuri nodded, hesitated, then decided to explain. “There was a photo I always loved of Victor from the Olympics. It was taken right here.”

Sara turned to look out onto the ice. Her eyes widened slightly. “The spiral?”

Yuri nodded. 

Sara sat next to Yuri. She set her hand on his knee. “Mickey and I were here that night.” She pointed across to the other side and up. “We were up there. We’d begged and begged. It was our first year in the juniors, and we were determined to represent Italy as Olympic athletes one day.”

Yuri turned to look at her. 

“What I’m saying is,” Sara continued, “we all miss him in our own ways. Mickey competed against him plenty of times between the grand prix series, Europeans and Worlds, but he never stopped being an inspiration to everybody.”

Yuri smiled at her. “I only competed against him for the first time in Sochi.”

Sara squeezed Yuri’s knee. “You had a harder time. Oda, Kozuka and Takahashi dominated Japan figure skating for a long time. We were able to make the podium easier and make the national teams. Then when you did start getting assignments, it was to Four Continents.”

Yuri nodded. “Last year was supposed to be it, the year I finally made a name for myself and had him see me as an equal. Then…”

Yuri wiped another tear. 

Sara reached out to hug Yuri, but he stopped her. “I’ll be ok.”

She nodded. “How about you take your photos from the stands first, so that Mickey doesn’t see your red eyes?”

Yuri nodded. “Thanks.”

She smiled. “He’ll be back. He may not compete, but he’ll be back. I just know it.”

“I hope so.”

“You’ll see.” She smiled. “Now, I should go warm up.”

* * *

 

_ Lips, hot and desperate against his, tongues tangling between them. A hand on the back of his head, fingers curling into his hair while another tightened against his waist. He gasped for air as they separated and their foreheads pressed together.  _

_ “Yuri…” breathed a voice smooth as silk. _

_ Hair tickled Yuri’s cheek, and he opened his eyes to return the gaze of his lover. Cerulean orbs stared back, peeking out from a curtain of platinum strands.  _

_ “Victor…” Yuri gasped as the other man closed in to resume their passionate kissing. _

Yuri awoke with a whine. He couldn’t remember every detail, but he knew he’d been dreaming of kissing Victor. 

He turned onto his side and curled into himself. “What’s wrong with me?”

He rolled back onto his back and stared at the ceiling, tears rolling down his cheeks.

* * *

 

Chris passed Yuri a glass of wine and took a spot opposite him at the table. 

“Are you sure you want me to stay with you Chris?” Yuri asked shyly. “I can go to a hotel.”

Chris smiled. “Nonsense. I have the room. And even I know that you’re undercharging for your services. So consider this part of your fee.”

Yuri picked up the glass of wine, took a careful sip then nodded as he set down again. “Thank you.”

Chris continued to smile, but it faltered after several seconds of silence. “You know…” he finally said, serious tone to his voice. “I thought I’d be the only one who missed him so much. I can hardly find the motivation for this season. You were a brief glimmer of something to push me harder, but now you’re gone too.”

Yuri smiled sadly. “There wasn’t anything left for me without him.”

Chris nodded and stared off into space. “I know what you mean, but for different reasons. He was… is… my best friend. But he was also my biggest rival. Even if somebody else proves a challenge this year it won’t be the same. Because it was Victor whom I could never beat.”

There was a beat of silence before Chris spoke again. “Are you going to do the special exhibition in Barcelona?”

Yuri nodded. “It only seems right. We were the last to compete against him.”

“Mickey was on board right away, JJ took a bit of convincing. I heard they talked Cao Bin into it too, so they will probably have all five of us, though it’s going to depend on where Cao’s at with physical therapy.”

“I thought his stumbles last season were because of the pressure from the media, I didn’t know he was in that much pain. It’s probably a good thing he had surgery before it got worse.”

Chris nodded. “We’re all hard on our bodies. I know I feel it some days.”

Yuri chuckled. “Same.”

“Think Cao will be able to skate this year?”

“There’re still a few months for him to recover. He wanted to be back in time to compete at his nationals anyway. So he’s likely working hard.”

Chris nodded and took a sip of wine. 

Yuri’s fingers tightened around the stem of his glass. “Did… did you visit him in the hospital? Victor... I mean.”

Chris sighed and nodded. “I had to get through nationals, which was only a couple days after the final, but I went to Saint Petersburg as soon as I could. Not that there was much for me to do once I was there. I mostly ended up sitting in waiting rooms and prepping his condo for him to be out for a while. Of course back then we expected him to wake up soon and just be away with physical therapy.”

“Yakov said he was covered in casts…”

“That’s right,” Chris paused. “Plisetsky went to Japan to train under you. I guess you talked to Yakov then?”

Yuri nodded. “He stayed with us for several days at the end of May to oversee Yurio’s progress.”

“Yurio?”

Yuri chuckled. “My sister gave him that nickname. It sort of stuck, at least with us. Phichit calls him mini-Yuri.”

Chris laughed. “Oh I bet the kitten just hates being called mini anything.”

Yuri smiled. “I think so too. He stopped hissing at us about Yurio though.”

Chris paused, then, “Going to keep coaching?”

Yuri shook his head. “I never claimed to be a coach, and it was never something I planned to do. We gave him some choreography and some time away from the ghosts in Saint Petersburg, then sent him back to his real coach.”

Chris nodded. “I don’t know how this all affected him, but I know he looked up to Victor as a mentor.”

Silence fell between them again. 

“So… how are you coping?” Chris asked. “I’m throwing myself into skating. But you don’t have that option do you?”

Yuri shook his head. “Working with Yurio helped. Now I’m traveling around taking photos. But it still gnaws on me at night.”

“Anything else helping?”

Yuri was about to shake his head when he remembered the photos. “This… might seem silly.”

Chris waved his hand in a  _ it doesn’t matter _ way.

“I’ve only done this a couple times… and by accident… but… I’ve recreated a couple of famous photos, this time without Victor in them.”

Chris blinked. “You? What?”

Yuri chewed his bottom lip. “I’ve memorized almost all of Victor’s most famous photos from different performances and venues. Just by chance I’ve gotten two photos of completely empty ice. I don’t know why, but that helps. It’s almost like it connects my thoughts of him to the reality now.”

“So why not keep doing that?” Chris offered. “It’s harmless enough, and if it helps then keep doing that. Make it a project. No matter when he wakes up, it’s the end of an era in men’s figure skating.”

“I don’t know…”

“Tell you what,” Chris offered, “you turn this into a project, what he meant to the sport and what impact his absence has, and I’ll contribute an essay to it.”

Yuri felt tears at the corners of his eyes and he willed them away. “Really?”

Chris nodded. “I don’t want him forgotten either Yuri.”

“I… I don’t know what to say Chris.”

“Say you can stay an extra day.”

“Umm, maybe. Why?”

“Because I’ll take you to Bern if you can. The European Championships were held there in twenty-eleven. I’ll pull some strings and get you that photo of empty ice.”

“Really?”

Chris nodded. “You’ve seen pics from then, right?”

Yuri nodded. “I might have to refresh my memory of them. But I have.”

“Good. Get that extra day and I’ll get us in for you.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say that you’ll show what an inspiration he was to all of us.”

Yuri nodded. “I think I can do that.” 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	10. The Season Begins - Autumn 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri begins work on the Empty Ice project and prepares for the upcoming Figure Skating season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

Yuri ended the call and his hand dropped. He stared at the wall, trying to decide if he was asleep or awake. 

“Yuri?” Mari asked, pausing at the open screen. “You ok?”

Yuri blinked and turned his head to look at his sister. “What?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you ok?”

“Pinch me.”

“What?”

“Pinch me. I need to know I’m not asleep.”

Mari shook her head, strode into the room and pinched Yuri hard. 

“Ow!”

“Satisfied?”

Yuri nodded, then bit his lower lip. “Thank you.”

Mari sighed and sat down next to him. Her eyes flicked to the phone still in Yuri’s hand. “What’s going on?”

“That… was an editor in New York… He works with a publisher dedicated to sport photography books.”

“Ok?”

“Apparently they heard about my project, the one where I take photos of empty ice from the same angles as famous photos of Victor.”

“Wait… are you saying…?”

Yuri nodded. “He wants me to send a proposal. They… want to turn it into a book.”

“It’s not a scam is it?”

Yuri shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ll check out their name later though.”

“So… why now?”

Yuri looked at Mari again and ran a hand through his hair. “He said… they’ve been looking for a way to offer something new on Victor after the accident. They wanted to do more than just re-publish the old photos.”

“So are you going to do it?”

“I told him that he needs to clear the project through Yakov first.”

“And if he says yes?”

“Then I guess I’m making my coping process very public.”

* * *

 

“Hello Yakov,” Yuri asked, barely glancing at the caller ID as he answered before the call could go to voicemail. “What can I do for you?”

“Can you explain the call I got from an American publisher this morning?”

Yuri chewed his bottom lip. “They surprised me too sir. A handful of people were aware of these photos, but it wasn’t anything I advertised. I’m thinking it might have been Chris though, he seemed enthusiastic when I told him how the photos helped.”

“Why did you decide to get me involved?”

Yuri winced. “Well... sir… You… know him best. You’d know if this would be something he’d approve. Also I’m sure there are issues with licensing the old photos or possibly even his name. You would have those contacts.”

Yakov sighed. “I guess you have a point.”

“Sir… I don’t know what they told you. But I won’t publish these photos without your approval. I’ll keep them to myself.”

“Why would you leave such a personal decision in my hands Katsuki?”

“Because I respect him and his career. That also means respecting the people around him.”

Yakov sighed again, then was silent for several minutes. Yuri was starting to wonder if the call had disconnected when the coach spoke again. “If it were anybody else I wouldn’t approve. But I think you might be the one person who can really do justice to a project like this. I’ll approve it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but there is one condition. The training rink is private. That’s my sanctuary where I can remember him. No photos there.”

“Yes sir.”

Yakov sighed. “What have I told you about the sir?”

“Sorry, habit.”

“I’ll call the publisher and get them in touch with the people they need to talk to.”

“Thank you Yakov.”

Yakov huffed in reply. “I should get back to watching my skaters. If I don’t Mila will likely be skating around with Yura in a lift by the time I get back.”

“Yakov?”

“What is it?”

“Should… should I bring Makka back when I visit Saint Petersburg in a couple weeks?”

“Why? Is she not doing well?”

“No, in fact she’s doing great. She loves all the attention and is happy and active. She even did ok while I went to photograph Chris and the Crispino twins. But… I thought… if the hospital allows pets… she might want to visit.”

“Keep her there Katsuki,” Yakov said after a moment. “No need to stress her with travel. I could probably get special permission, but if she’s doing good then we need to not set her back.”

“Ok.”

“I’ll see you in a couple weeks when you come out to photograph Yura and Mila.”

Yuri made a noise of agreement then ended the call.

Yuri leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling until Makkachin moved from where she’d been napping at the end of the bed and set her head in his lap. Yuri ran his fingers through her fur absentmindedly. “Looks like you’re staying here girl.”

Her eyes flicked between Yuri and the camera sitting on his desk. 

Yuri smiled. “Yep, I’ll be leaving to take more photos again soon. You’ll be good for me while I’m away, right?”

Makkachin huffed an agreement, rolled onto her back for belly rubs and thumped her tail.

* * *

 

Yuri bowed politely as he stopped in front of Morooka just outside the Fukuoka train station. “It’s good to see you Morooka-san. What brings you down to Fukuoka?”

Morooka smiled and returned the bow. “You do, or more specifically your photography project.”

Yuri blinked. “You mean… the Empty Ice project?”

“Is that what you’re calling it?”

Yuri nodded. “Yes, but what does that have to do with why you’re here.”

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Yuri climbed into the news van and took a seat among the equipment, his camera bag perched on his lap. A few minutes later the van stopped and he climbed out after the reporter. 

“This is the Marine Messe Fukuoka!” Yuri cried. “The Grand Prix Final was here two years ago.”

Morooka nodded. “We’ve got empty ice for you today.”

Yuri turned and gaped. “What do you mean you have ice today? Aren’t they configured for summer sports right now?”

Morooka smiled. “They’re switching from a swimming event that just ended to a concert in two weeks, but the reason they’re doing nothing for so long is to test equipment and run regular maintenance. That includes the ice rink setup.”

“You mean?” Yuri gaped at the building. 

Morooka nodded. “I hope you don’t mind I sprung this on you, but it all came together late last night.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I might be able to help with that. I’d like to film you working then get a short interview.”

Yuri stared then smiled softly. “Ok.”

* * *

 

Yurio sprawled across the bed in Yuri’s hotel room while Yuri went through his camera bag at the desk. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come by the training rink Katsudon?” Yurio asked, turning over and propping himself up on his forearms. “Yakov won’t mind as long as you leave your camera.”

Yuri smiled and shook his head. “I… think it might be a bit much for me. Mila has already agreed to run through her program for me on the main rink before the exhibition so I can get an idea of how and where I want to take photos. And I’m already familiar with yours.”

“I should hope so,” Yurio scoffed. 

Silence fell between them for several minutes. Finally Yuri stood, walked over and ruffled the teen’s hair. “How are you doing?” he asked even as Yurio snarled. 

Yurio sighed and rolled onto his back again. “It’s… better. I still expect him to stroll in, steaming cup of tea in one hand, Yakov yelling that he’s late. When I nailed the landing of the quad flip the first time I almost started crying, he would have cheered the loudest for me.”

“He’ll see you land it one day, I’m sure.”

Yurio looked up at Yuri. “How? It’s been almost ten months. Maybe if he’d woken up right away…”

Yuri bit his lip. “Sometimes… you just have to hold onto hope Yurio.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

Yuri chewed his lip some more. “Yes, and no. I know he’ll never compete again, that’s what the book project is helping with. But I still have to hope that he’ll wake up, that he’ll know exactly how much he meant. I can’t stomach the thought of him wasting away in the hospital for the rest of his life.”

They were silent for several more minutes. 

“I… I used to tell him that I was going to beat his records, that he was old and once I made seniors I’d be the new Russian champion,” Yuri said. “But I didn’t want to become champion like this. I wanted to prove myself against him, not skate into the hole of his absence.”

“There’s always Georgi,” Yuri teased. 

Yurio laughed. “He’s skating about his most recent breakup this year. They’re probably his best programs yet, but the ones you and Minako choreographed are so far above in term of artistry and technical difficulty that he’d have to almost completely rework them to come close.”

Yurio paused. “I think this is his last year. He never caught up to Victor, he was always in his shadow. But he’s like me, there’s no joy in becoming the new champion like this. Combined with his age… he was running out of time anyway.”

“He could always surprise you,” Yuri replied.

“Da, but it’s Georgi. He’ll surprise with emotions, not skating.”

Yuri smiled. 

“Do you like cats Katsudon?”

“They’re ok.”

Yurio crinkled his nose. “You need to come over and meet mine. Then you’ll love cats.”

Yuri nodded. “Ok. I’ll meet your cat before I leave.”

* * *

 

Yuri stood at the edge of the rink, waiting for the music to start. It was the last practice before the exhibition and Mila was about to show him her program. 

Yurio moved to stand beside Yuri. He passed over a binder. 

“What’s this?”

“I stole it from Yakov’s office,” Yurio explained. 

“You what!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll give it back. But I thought it might be useful for you.”

Yuri opened the binder. Inside were clippings from newspapers and magazines. Each one showed Victor. 

Yuri hissed in a breath. “Yurio…”

“He organizes them the same for all of us. International competitions at the front, then domestic, then shows and exhibitions. I know Yakov said the training rink was off limits, but this side of the complex is fine. Between local competitions and exhibitions, Victor skated here so many times that I doubt you’d have seen any but the most famous photos. This binder is just his senior career, but I thought it would be more than enough.”

“Yuri!” Yakov bellowed across the ice. 

Yurio winced and tried to hide, but knew he’d been caught as the coach stormed over. 

“Did you even think to ask?” Yakov demanded once he was standing in front of them.

“I was going to have it back in an hour or so, and it’s all things he could have looked up online anyway,” Yurio hissed back.

“That’s not the point!” Yakov sighed and turned to Yuri. “You’re here through tomorrow?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Leave it with Yura before you leave.”

“Umm… ok.”

Yakov turned to Yurio. “You’re doing drills until your legs fall off tomorrow.”

“Yeah, whatever…” the teen shot back. 

* * *

 

Yuri flipped through the binder of clippings. He’d hastily selected a number of favorites before the exhibition and had several photos of empty ice, but Yakov had informed him that if he needed more they’d have some time in the morning that he could get them. 

Yuri sighed. He’d seen so many of the photos, but Yakov had assembled a collection that Yuri would have only been able to dream of. Clippings in all languages from competitions big and small, often several photos per event from vantages of photographers sending them back to local news outlets. 

Yuri looked at the time. The business center of the hotel was still open. He carried the binder downstairs and spent a more than he was willing to admit making photocopies of the pictures he wanted to recreate. 

Once back in the room Yuri decided to look at the raw photos from the exhibition. He needed to trim out the bad ones so that he was prepared to select the best with Yurio and Mila. 

Yuri connected his camera to his laptop and browsed the photos. The lighting and angles he’d chosen made for dynamic pieces that would surely meet the needs of the skaters. Mila’s dress sparkled, skirt flaring in the middle of a twizzle. Yurio’s hair fanned in a halo during an axel, swirls of black and white climbing his torso. 

Yuri pulled several photos that were blurry or otherwise not right out and put them in a folder in case he needed them in editing. 

He was about halfway through Yurio’s skate, and was excited to see stills of the quad flip. 

The entry was clean, and determination was written across Yurio’s face at the apex. 

A strand of silver ran down one side of the photo as Yurio’s blade met the ice. 

“Nooooooooo,” Yuri cried. “It was perfect!”

Yuri leaned forward and studied the photo. He sighed. “I guess I can edit it out. It’s not on Yurio. I can fill in the crowd from a clean shot.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess I need to send the camera body in for repairs.”

Yuri leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “I hope I can get it fixed before the grand prix season.”

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

Yuri sat up and looked at the door. “Yurio?”

Silence. 

Yuri stood and walked to the door. He opened it and looked into the hall. The elevator dinged at the far end, but soon two people appeared and headed toward their room. 

Yuri shook his head. “Must be my imagination. I’m probably sleepier than I thought.”

He returned to the desk and took off his glasses. He rubbed his eyes then returned his attention to the computer. No additional photos from the exhibition had the silver strand, but he found three from before when he’d taken photos of empty ice. Each time it was a bit bigger. 

Yuri sighed. “Maybe I should just get a new camera.” He looked at it, and felt an unfamiliar fear at the thought of getting rid of it. 

“No, just a repair. It’s seen me through a lot, I have to give it a chance.”

* * *

 

_ Hands on his hips and lips against the back of his shoulders and neck. He pressed back into the intimate touch, and the fingers dug into his hips, holding him close.  _

_ Yuri moaned as the kisses continued against heated skin. Fingers moved and trailed along his stomach _

_ Every part of Yuri wanted, yearned for the touch of his lover. He turned in the embrace, and without opening his eyes his lips sought out the source of his pleasure. His hands trailed up a sculpted chest and plunged into silky hair.  _

_ “Victor…” _

Yuri gasped and woke up. His computer was still on and open, his glasses on the desk next to the camera. He rubbed his eyes, and wiped away several tears. 

Yuri sighed and closed the open windows on his computer. He stopped when he reached the one with the silver strand through it. 

“It’s your fault,” he accused the silvery artifact in the  photo. “You’re the same color as his hair.”

Yuri finished turning off his computer and crawled into bed, the lingering memory of the dream tingling his skin. 

* * *

 

Yuri wandered the rink in Fukuoka while Morooka interviewed the three competitors. The crowd favorite was Minami Kenjiro, and Yuri wanted to find a good place to shoot from that didn’t have the clear hockey barriers either in his way or in the background. 

Yuri rounded the rink on the competitor side and almost ran into the young skater. 

Minami’s eyes grew wide. “K… Katsuki Yuri!”

Yuri smiled and nodded. “Hello.”

“I… I’m your biggest fan!” Minami blurted out. 

Yuri continued to smile. “Ummm thank you?”

“I was so sad when you announced your retirement,” the teen continued. “I was determined to compete against you in the senior division.”

Yuri bit his lip. He hadn’t considered that others would want to compete against him. “I… uh…”

“Watch me!” Minami demanded. 

Yuri smiled. “Of course. I’ll take good photos of you too.”

Minami beamed. “Thank you! I’ll make you proud and show the world that you’re an inspiration to Japanese figure skaters!”

Yuri chuckled. “Just don’t stop at me. Keep reaching until you’re the inspiration.”

Minami grinned. “I’ll do my best!”

A woman who was obviously Minami’s coach stood nearby, smiling softly. She mouthed a “ _ Thank you, _ ” as Yuri patted Minami on the shoulder. 

* * *

 

Morooka bought several photos of each skater for the online gallery, and a few days later reported that clicks of the gallery and reads of the article were above average. They met in Tokyo to discuss where they wanted Yuri to go, and decided to put him on the Grand Prix series as he’d know many of the competitors. A staff reporter was assigned to the Challenger series. 

Makkachin sensed that the season was starting, following Yuri around the onsen after he returned from the sectional championships. But Mari and his parents insisted that the dog was doing fine when he was away. 

“I’m just worried. She’s gotten attached, and I don’t know if I’ll make it home before the NHK Trophy.”

Mari took a seat next to him in the family’s dining room. “She’ll be fine. And we’ll let you know if not.”

“It’s three weeks away,” Yuri protested. “I won’t get a break between competitions. I’ll go from the US to Canada, then to China. I’ll have a day or so around the NHK, then I’ll be off to France then Moscow. My next real break will be about a week between Rostelecom and the Final.”

Yuri chewed on his lip, remembering what Yakov had said about the poodle not eating around worlds. 

“I’ll let Morooka know that she’s a priority. If there is a problem I want to know immediately.”

Mari nodded. “We can do that.”

* * *

 

_ Warm skin against his own, stealing breaths between kisses. It was too much and not enough, never enough.  _

_ Yuri’s head fell back as his lover kissed and sucked along his neck. He moaned Victor’s name over and over, fingers curled into platinum hair.  _

_ Lips trailed down his torso, tongue and teeth against his nipples. Then a pause as the other man kissed along the length of his cock.  _

_ Yuri gasped as he was enveloped in the wet heat of Victor’s mouth and forced himself not to thrust up in search of more.  _

_ “Victoooorrrr…” he moaned as the other man’s tongue danced along sensitive skin.  _

_ Yuri’s back arched as Victor began sucking and bobbing in earnest. He was close, so close.  _

_ “I wish this was real…” Victor said, pulling off for a moment.  _

Yuri’s eyes flew open. He was achingly hard, and couldn’t escape the ghost of the dream. 

“Victor…” Yuri whimpered as he gave into temptation and took himself in hand. 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://wherelivesthepornandgore.tumblr.com/post/166830190783/so-heres-my-nsfw-arts-for-the-victuri-big-bang) NSFW blog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
>  
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	11. Descent Into Madness - Late October - December 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Prix Series begins, and between it, the Empty Ice project, and his increasingly vivid dreams Yuri finds himself stretched thin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I normally don't like to post super long chapters, but this story seemed to prefer them so I didn't force them to split in weird places. So the next few chapters are super long for me. 
> 
> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

“Yuri!” Phichit cried as soon as he spied Yuri enter the rink. He skated over and reached across the barrier for a hug. 

Yuri relaxed in his friend’s embrace. “It’s good to see you Phichit.”

Phichit squeezed Yuri as much as the barrier between them would allow. “I miss training with you.”

Yuri smiled and stepped back. “Same, but it was time.”

Phichit bit his lip, then sighed. 

“Would a selfie make you feel better?”

Phichit grinned, and Yuri pulled out his phone. After the Thai skater had the perfect picture he texted it over and set up to take photos of the practice. 

Yuri sighed as he looked over the ice. 

“Do you miss it?” an unfamiliar voice asked. 

Yuri turned to see Otabek Altin standing beside him. He nodded. “A bit. I’m still finding my place off the ice.”

“You’re still young. You could come back. They banned the double-quad. You would have likely won without it anyway.”

Yuri smiled. “No. I had a dream, and it died with that accident. It would be wrong for me to stand in the way of others who have their own dreams.”

“You could still rival his record.”

Yuri shook his head. “No, maybe if he’d retired… but not like this.”

Otabek nodded. “The sport lost two legends last season then.”

Yuri stared as the Kazakh skater walked away. 

* * *

Yuri found himself swept into a dinner with Phichit and the others after the medal ceremony. Otabek studied him while Leo, Guang Hong and Phichit argued about who would take gold in China.

“What are you doing after this Yuri?” Leo asked. “There are a few days before you have to be in Canada, aren’t there?”

Yuri nodded. “The publisher has worked with several places across the US and Canada to get me empty ice on old venues. I stopped in Los Angeles on the way here. Next I head to London, Canada, Quebec City, then back to Calgary. I’m in Lethbridge for Skate Canada, then I’ll stop in Vancouver before heading to China.”

“Doesn’t seem like much,” Phichit joked. “Cramped for time?”

Yuri chuckled. “I’m hitting the big events this time. Worlds, Finals and Olympics. I’ll be back to get Grand Prix series venues before worlds in Boston.”

“They’re not starting with them?” Leo asked.

Yuri shook his head. “The North American series events are harder because the host cities change every year. France, China and Russia are fairly consistent so I won’t have to travel far if at all to get photos from those events. Besides, the publisher wanted the bigger wins first, Worlds and Olympics. Europeans, Grand Prix Finals, then smaller events like qualifiers and nationals.”

“Makes sense,” Otabek said. “Take advantage of the fact you’re here right now, and reevaluate after the big photos are taken to determine what else is needed.”

Yuri nodded. “Exactly. We’ve got a page count we’re aiming for, and there are still essays to include.”

“Oh?” Guang Hong asked. “Who is writing essays?”

Yuri sighed. “I’m one, they insisted. Chris Giacometti, Yuri Plisetsky offered, and Yakov was talked into it. I think they’re in discussion with Stephane Lambiel since they shared the podium so often early in Victor’s career, Oda too. I know there are others, but I’m focusing on the photography aspect right now.”

“You’re not in charge of everything?” Phichit asked. 

Yuri shook his head. “I’m working with the editor, who came into the project with his own ideas. Since they found me when they were already looking for a photographer I’m open to sharing some of the decisions.”

“Ok,” Phichit replied, then pulled out his cell phone. “Group selfie!”

* * *

 

Yuri sighed and opened a new tab in his browser. He went to the website for the US bank account he’d forgotten to close and prayed there was enough in it for a new camera body. 

The artifacts were getting worse, and practice for Skate Canada started the next day. He couldn’t take the chance that the silver strands showed up on competition photos. 

The single thread from Saint Petersburg had turned into several, flowing across the image. He’d been lucky that they only showed up on the empty ice photos and ones of Yurio, but knew it was only a matter of time before it happened again.

His bank account showed just enough if he managed to get a deal, but as soon as he started looking for camera shops he felt an overwhelming attachment to the one he was using. 

Yuri yawned, took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to sleep…” he muttered to the empty room. “Just one night that I don’t dream of him.”

“ _ Yuuuri… _ ” 

The voice in his head sounded sad. 

“Go away,” Yuri mumbled. “You’re not real, just a manifestation of my obsession.”

Frustration washed over Yuri, and he wasn’t sure if it was his or the projection of whatever he thought the voice would feel.

“Maybe I can take some time and return to Japan long enough to get the body fixed…” he muttered again.  “That should be cheaper than a full new camera…”

Relief that he wasn’t sure was his.

Yuri jumped when somebody knocked at the door. He strode over to it, and was overcome with joy to see Yurio standing on the other side. He opened the door and allowed the teen inside. 

“How you doing Yurio? Nervous?”

“Ha!” Yurio scoffed. “I’m going to wipe the floor skating the programs you choreographed for me.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “You look like shit Katsudon.”

“I’m not sleeping well.”

“Jet lag?”

“Maybe. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling.”

“I was going to ask you to join me for dinner, but maybe I should let you sleep.”

Yuri hummed. “How about we do room service here.”

Yurio grinned. “Deal.”

Yurio walked over and flopped onto the bed while Yuri returned to the desk. He turned the chair so that he was facing the teen. 

“How are things for you now that the season has officially started?” Yuri asked. 

“Yakov and Lilia are on my ass constantly. Some days I think my legs will fall off between running the flip over and over or that hellish step sequence you gave me.”

“Ah, don’t blame me for that. That was Minako.”

Yurio smiled, then sighed. “It’s a shame she’s not here. She should be. It’s her program too.”

“I know, but we believe in you. She’ll be there with Mari for the Final.”

“Really?” Yurio asked, excitement tinging his voice. 

Yuri nodded. “We know you’ll make it.”

Yurio looked about to cry, so Yuri stood and moved to sit next to him on the bed. “What’s up?”

Yurio fidgeted. “I always told him I’d beat him, but he was my buffer too. As long as he was skating, Russia would remain the winner. I would have time to grow to where I could really challenge him. Now it all rests on my shoulders.”

Yuri ruffled Yurio’s hair. “Yurio, I used to beat myself up after every skate. I’d overanalyze, stress over missed jumps. I was never good enough in my own head, so I was never good enough for the judges. I’d talked myself out of medals worrying about missing jumps, which I then missed. And I always worried that I was letting down my family, friends and country. It took until I refused to let myself lose that it changed.”

“What are you saying Katsudon?”

“Skate for you, because you love the sport, or because you have your own goals. If you let everybody else’s expectations weigh on you, then they’ll hold you down. Skate because it makes you happy, because you’re living your dream, and you’ll fly.”

Yurio stared. “Umm…”

Yuri laughed. “Fight hard, not for Russia, but for yourself.”

Yurio nodded. “I can do that.”

They ordered, then Yuri turned back to his computer to look through his empty ice photos and prep his camera for the following days. 

“Where’s that one from?” Yurio asked, leaning over Yuri’s shoulder. 

“Calgary. I was there earlier today.”

Yuri advanced to the next photo and sighed as several silver strands flowed across the photo. “There’s another one…”

“Woah, trippy. What caused that?”

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose again. “I don’t know. I think it’s a flaw in the camera body. I’m just lucky they’ve only shown up on the empty ice photos for the most part. The only other time I’ve seen them is in photos with you.”

“Me? Really?”

Yuri nodded. 

“It looks like hair,” Yurio said, looking at the photo again. “It reminds me of Victor’s hair actually.”

“I thought so too.”

Yurio reached over, hand hovering over the delete key. 

Yuri grabbed his hand in a panic. “No!”

“Woah Katsudon! It’s got that hair stuff in the way. Aren’t you going to delete it?”

Yuri couldn’t breathe, gasping for breath from the terror of the photo almost being deleted. 

Yurio backed off and turned the chair so that he could look at Yuri. “Katsudon? You ok?”

Yuri blinked several times, then shook his head. “Sorry. Just… Please don’t go deleting any of my photos.”

“You’re keeping it?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Why?”

Yuri bit his bottom lip. “I don’t know…”

* * *

 

Yuri compromised with himself. He couldn’t take the chance of the silvery artifacts appearing on competition photos, but since the empty ice photos were more forgiving he decided to keep shooting those with his existing camera. 

Yurio joined him after practice as they walked to a nearby camera store that had good reviews. 

“So you’re getting a new camera for competitions, but you’re going to keep using your old glitchy one for your book?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Why?”

Yuri blinked several times. “I really don’t know,” he said after several steps. “It just feels right.”

“Whatever, it’s your life, but it seems silly to me.”

Yuri smiled. “Is Yakov ok with you disappearing after practice?”

“Da. He knows I like to get away. Besides, I told him I’d be with you.”

Yuri chuckled. 

“Katsuki-san!”

Both Yuri and Yurio paused and turned back to look for the owner of the voice. Yuri smiled when he saw Minami running toward them. 

“Who’s the pipsqueak?” Yurio asked. 

Yuri turned and gaped. “You’re kidding right?”

“No. Why would I be kidding?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “That’s Minami Kenjirou. You competed against him last year at Junior Worlds. I think at one of the junior grand prix qualifiers too. He was an alternate for the final.”

“So what’s he doing here? This isn’t a junior event.”

“He’s skating as a senior this year.”

“How? He can’t be older than twelve.”

Yuri reached out and flicked Yurio on the forehead. “He’s a year and a half older than you.”

“Are you sure?” Yurio asked, rubbing the spot.

Yuri chuckled. “Positive. Now be nice.”

Yurio huffed. 

Yuri turned and bowed in greeting. “Konnichi wa Minami-kun. Are you comfortable in English?”

Minami bowed in return. “Konnichi wa Katsuki-san. Hai… Yes. I can speak English ok, though you might have to translate some words for me.” He turned to Yurio and bowed politely. “Hello Plisetsky-san.”

Yurio blinked. “Um… hello.”

“I look forward to skating against you again tomorrow.”

“Um… sure. Ok.”

Yuri laughed. “Ditch the formalities, the awkwardness is hilarious.” He turned to Yurio. “Yurio, this is Minami Kenjirou, one of your competitors.” He turned to Minami. “Minami-kun, this is Yuri Plisetsky. He’d probably prefer if you called him Yuri rather than Plisetsky-san.”

Yurio nodded. “Da.”

“O… ok… Yuri…” Minami said slowly. 

Yurio nodded. “That’s better.”

“Yuri and I were headed to a camera store because mine is glitching and I need a new one,” Yuri explained. “Care to join us? That is… if it’s ok with you Yurio.”

Yurio waved. “Sure, whatever. As long as that ass JJ stays away.”

“Is he annoying you too?” Minami asked. “He keeps looking right over me and asking where I am. It’s very rude.”

Yurio scowled, then smirked. “Let’s get him back.”

“Ok!”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Yuri said. “Plot on your own, and don’t get yourselves disqualified.”

“Ok!” the two teens said in unison.

* * *

 

“That was gorgeous Yurio,” Yuri said as Yurio came off the ice after his exhibition skate. 

Yurio scowled. “It was ok.”

“Just ok? What’s wrong with it?”

Yurio glanced around. “Lilia choreographed it. It just doesn’t feel like me.”

“So choreograph a new one. It’s your exhibition, you should have fun with it.”

Yurio huffed. “I don’t know what I want to skate to though.”

Yuri shrugged. “It’ll come to you. Don’t force it.”

Yurio sighed, then glared at where JJ was preparing to finish the night. “I’m going to beat him in Moscow.”

Yuri chuckled. “Silver isn’t anything to be ashamed of you know.”

“Maybe not against you, but it is against him.”

“I thought you and Minami teamed up to get back at him.”

“We did, but Yakov found out and said that no matter how much an ass he is it’s unsportsmanlike to go around spreading rumors that would distract him.”

“That’s the best you came up with?”

“It was the only non-violent thing we could think of short term. Now that it’s over though… He’s a cocky bastard and I want to punch his face.”

“Don’t get yourself disqualified by fighting.”

“That’s why I haven’t punched him.”

“Ignore him.”

“Only after I put him in his place. At least Victor had earned the right to be a cocky ass. This guy placed third at the final last year and ok at worlds the season before that and thinks he’s hot shit. He can’t even consistently make the podium.”

Yuri chuckled. “Go change Yurio. We’ll ditch Yakov and go to dinner so you have real food in you before the banquet. Minami will be there too.”

“Deal,” Yurio replied. He paused at the tunnel entrance. “I… I wish you could be at the banquet Katsudon. It’s not going to be the same without you.”

Yuri smiled. “Go on. Get changed. I’ll see you after Morooka picks the photos he wants from tonight. It shouldn’t take long since it’s just the exhibition.”

* * *

 

Yuri could see the Pacific Coliseum from his Vancouver hotel room, in the distance past the rows of houses. It was one of the last places that Victor had gotten silver. The following season had marked the start of his four-year winning streak. 

Yuri had spent several hours in the building that day, and had dedicated an entire memory card to the shoot. His legs ached from climbing up and down stairs. 

Somehow the building still commanded his attention, and for some reason felt of regret. He’d wanted so badly for Victor to win a second Olympic gold there, but the Russian had been edged out in the end. 

Yuri sighed and pulled the drapes closed, shutting out the view of the building. He had a flight to Japan the next day, a day at home, then another flight to Shanghai. He’d photograph the one arena Victor had skated at in that city, for both his final Worlds and for a Cup of China event, then go to Beijing for the current competition and to photograph another empty venue.

He strode to the desk and turned on his computer and camera. Almost on cue, he felt the familiar presence nearby. He’d learned that it was stronger when his camera was on, though it wasn’t a requirement. 

Yuri set himself to ignoring his delusion. He needed to go over the photos from the shoot and decide which ones to archive and which to move into his working folder. 

Almost immediately he found several photos with the hairlike strands. He sighed, in the last one it was almost like a curtain. 

Lips against Yuri’s neck and fingers dancing across his middle. 

Yuri shouted and jumped, knocking the chair to the floor. He fought for breath while his eyes scanned the room for an intruder. 

Everything was still, but Yuri locked the door and searched the room anyway before deciding that nobody was there. 

“So you can do that now huh? Am I that insane?” he demanded.

“ _ Yuuuriiiii…. _ ” came the reply in his head before the brush of fingertips against the back of his hand. 

Yuri shuddered and whined. A part of him wanted the touch, craved it. He knew it was all in his head, that he’d finally lost it, but he didn’t care. For a moment he wondered what would happen if he just let go, if he allowed the madness to consume him. Would he feel those loving touches forever?

“No…” Yuri moaned, clawing his way back to sanity. He stepped back toward the desk and righted the chair. 

He forced himself to ignore the feeling of somebody pouting at him and the occasional huff of annoyance that filled his head. 

* * *

 

“You look like shit little bro,” Mari announced as soon as Yuri stood from removing his shoes. 

“You’re not the first to say that,” he deadpanned in return. 

“Maybe you should rethink China. I think it might be too much.”

Yuri shook his head. “It’s not the competitions. I’m not sleeping well is all.”

Mari walked over and put a hand to Yuri’s forehead. “You’re not running a fever, but you look like you’re about to fall over. When do you leave again?”

“I’ve got the rest of today. All day tomorrow, then I have to leave early the day after for China.”

Mari crossed her arms. “Bed. Now. I’ll let Kaasan know you’re home safe.”

Yuri didn’t have the energy to argue. He nodded and plodded to his room, collapsing onto the mattress without even bothering to change. 

He was almost asleep when the mattress dipped and a cool nose pressed against his face. 

“Hi Makka,” he said sleepily, running his fingers through her fur. “It’s good to see you too.”

Makkachin huffed, then stretched out beside him. 

_ “Yuri, beautiful Yuri.” _

_ “Victor,” Yuri replied between breathless kisses.  _

_ Strong arms held him close, the warmth of Victor’s chest against his own. Victor’s lips against his jaw, then neck.  _

_ He slid his hands under the hem of Victor’s shirt, fingers exploring toned muscle as he pushed the fabric up. Victor was doing the same in return, each scrambling to separate the other from their clothing.  _

_ Yuri’s legs hit the bed and Victor pushed him down onto it, then followed, kneeling over Yuri and leaning in to keep kissing him.  _

_ Yuri’s skin was on fire, Victor’s fingers leaving scorching trails of desire. Yuri’s hips rose, seeking friction.  _

_ “Victor, please,” he begged.  _

_ Victor kissed him harder and pushed his own hips down against Yuri. They rolled and moved against each other, cocks pressed together.  _

_ Yuri was close, so close, chanting Victor’s name like a prayer. Then it was too much and he spilled between them. Victor followed soon after, the warmth of his pleasure spreading against their skin.  _

_ Victor rolled to the side and pulled Yuri into his arms. They continued to kiss as they came down from the intense high.  _

_ “Yuri…” Victor said after several quiet minutes.  _

_ “Hmm?” _

_ “Why is it you only let me touch you like this?” _

_ Yuri was confused, pleasure still fogging his mind. “What do you mean?” _

_ “You’re asleep Yuri. Why can I only touch you in your dreams? Why do you keep refusing me when you’re awake?” _

Yuri’s eyes flew open. “Not again…” he cried, sitting up and rubbing at his tear-stained face. 

Makkachin huffed in annoyance, then hopped down from his bed and trotted from the room.

Yuri flopped back and draped an arm across his face. “Victor…”

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

“Why are you torturing me like this?” Yuri demanded of the empty room.

“ _ Yuri…” _

Yuri rolled from his bed, careful of his erection, and closed the screen to his room. He then made his way to the closet. After a few minutes of rummaging he found what he was looking for, a long cardboard tube. 

Yuri reached inside, pushing past his pain. He hadn’t looked at the original contents when they arrived, but his sleep addled mind insisted that he do so now. His fingers caught the edge of the poster and he pulled it free. 

He grabbed a handful of double-sided poster mounts, then unrolled the paper. 

Victor’s pink top glittered, stadium lights glinted off his hair as he reached for somebody just out of sight of the camera. 

Yuri tacked the poster to the wall over his bed, staring at the man he loved. 

Tears streamed down his face as he braced himself against the wall with one hand and wrapped the other around his aching cock. 

Yuri allowed himself to just feel. Kisses along his neck, fingers against his own, guiding his movements. An erection ground against his ass. 

Yuri squeezed his eyes shut, momentarily shutting out the reality that he was alone. 

“ _ Yuri...” _

“Victor…” Yuri moaned as he spilled into his hand. 

KIsses on his shoulder. “ _ Yuri… _ ”

* * *

 

Giving in to the madness felt like triumph in a way. Yuri slept better immediately, and though he wasn’t fully recovered, he had more energy by the time he reached China. 

He knew it was temporary. He’d have to put the wall between himself and the illusion up again. But for the time being he didn’t have the energy to fight it. 

His first stop was Shanghai, where Victor had won his last Worlds title and had skated in two Cup of China events. 

After several hours of shooting at the Shanghai Oriental Sports Center he boarded another flight to Beijing. He had a few hours in the morning to photograph empty ice before afternoon practice. 

Yuri trudged into his hotel room and took out his camera and computer right away. He wasn’t even surprised by the artifacts when he saw them, but did notice that they had started to change again. Along with the hairlike strands were silvery blurs. 

Yuri sighed and leaned back as he felt the familiar presence behind him. Hands dipped under the collar of his shirt, fingers trailing down his front. 

Yuri closed his eyes. “Victor…” he breathed, turning his head when he felt lips on his jaw. 

He moaned, chasing the feeling of lips against his own, wanting the warmth and the desperation of being so close as to be breathing each other's air. 

Despite how good it felt to give in, Yuri couldn’t escape the exhaustion that had settled over him. He yawned loudly. 

“ _ Yuri... _ ” Fingertips against his eyelids, and a kiss on his forehead. An unspoken order to go to bed.

Yuri nodded, mindlessly obeying the presence that wanted to be Victor. He changed into comfortable pajamas, brushed his teeth and a few minutes later slid under the plush hotel comforter. 

Strong arms wrapped around his waist, and his phantom lover nuzzled into his neck as he fell asleep. 

* * *

 

A hand cupped his ass and squeezed. Yuri jumped and turned. “Chris!”

Chris smiled. “Seems retired life agrees with you. Plush yet firm.”

“I have to stay in shape for exhibitions. The ten kilo camera bag helps too.” Yuri swatted Chris’s hand away when he felt a flash of annoyance that wasn’t his own. “Hands off though. Ok?”

“Ah, I’m hurt,” Chris complained. “Didn’t invite me to the party last night, and a no touching rule too?”

“What party?”

“Your cute Thai friend posted photos of you, him, the adorable Chinese bean and the kid from America. You all seemed to be having a good time.”

Yuri smiled. “It was just hot pot.”

“Mmmm,” Chris hummed. “Well don’t forget to invite me next time.”

Yuri laughed. “Ok.”

Yuri heard chatter behind him, Guang Hong and Leo in shock at how Chris and Yuri were talking. 

“Let’s find a quieter spot,” Yuri suggested. 

Chris’s green eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded. “Oui.”

Coach Karpisek eyed them as they moved slightly away from the other competitors. “How are you doing this season?” Yuri asked. “When I saw you a few months ago you said you were having difficulty finding motivation.”

“Are you asking as a friend, or as a reporter?” Chris asked, eyes flicking to the press icon on Yuri’s badge. 

Yuri smiled. “As a friend. I’m only a photographer, I don’t write the stories.”

Chris nodded, and Yuri saw his coach slide closer. 

“I’m having a hard time,” Chris said after a minute. “I wish you were back at least. Georgi and I are among the oldest competitors now.”

Coach Karpisek nodded and stepped close. “Come back Yuri. You finally allowed yourself to shine last year, and showed amazing growth. You retired far too soon.”

Yuri shook his head. “No.” He looked over to where Phichit was talking with Guang Hong and Leo. “It was time for me. They’ve got hopes and dreams still. My dream is gone.”

Coach Karpisek sighed, then patted Chris’s shoulder. “Come on, you should warm up.”

Chris nodded. “Ok.” He turned to Yuri. “Take good photos of me, ok?”

“Your best side is your backside,” Yuri replied. 

“Good man, you remember.”

Yuri chuckled. “Don’t worry, your ass will be a main component in my photos of you.”

Chris laughed and slung his arm over Yuri’s shoulders. “It’s official Josef,” he called to his coach. “Yuri is my official photographer from now on. He knows which my best side is without asking.”

“You dedicated your short program to it this year I swear,” the coach called back. “Now start warming up.”

“Yes coach!”

Yuri smiled and watched his friends disperse, each focused on preparing for the competition ahead. He then made his way to the ice for his own preparations. 

* * *

 

“Coach Yakov?”

“What is it Katsuki?” Yakov asked as Georgi made his way toward a group of reporters waiting to interview the current leader. 

“Ummm about Georgi’s photos…”

“What about them?”

“Sir… um… he’s crying in them. I wanted to give you both a chance to look through them before I sold any.”

“What do you mean he’s crying?”

Yuri shrugged. “He… was crying. Tears and red eyes crying.”

Yakov sighed. “I should have known better than to allow him to skate programs dedicated to his ex. Go ahead and sell them, if anybody wants to buy them.”

“Are you sure?”

Yakov nodded. “You don’t see anybody else offering to pull them do you?”

Yuri looked around before sheepishly shaking his head. “No, sir.”

“You’re in a ruthless world now, possibly colder than the ice. Everybody wants the story. Don’t limit yourself needlessly. Georgi cried as part of a public performance, you didn’t invade his privacy or do anything unethical. If he has a problem with it, then he needs to learn how to control his emotions. Besides, people cry on the ice all the time. Pull one now and you’ll be pulling them for the rest of your career.”

“I think I understand sir.”

“Good. Now drop the sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Yuri nodded and watched the coach walk off to answer his own interview questions.

* * *

 

Yuri felt the presence… Victor’s presence since it seemed to want to be Victor… strengthening the closer he got to the hotel room, and to the camera which he used for the empty ice photos. 

Hands on his shoulders as soon as the door closed, the whisper of breath across the back of his neck. 

“Not tonight,” Yuri said, stepping further into the room. “I’m exhausted, and I still have work to do. I need to clean up the shots Morooka wanted for the cover image, and get the French kid’s photos to his coach to review. I could use another photo shoot next summer.”

A hand on his wrist. Yuri knew he could easily walk away, but stopped. He was learning that if he gave some on the little things, the bigger desires, like touching himself and allowing … Victor… to guide him, were easier to refuse.

Fingers along his jaw, angling his face up for a kiss. He knew he had to look like a loon, kissing air, but that didn’t stop the soft whine of desire. 

Yuri’s insanity knew exactly what he wanted, and he was helpless to fight it. 

Victor retreated to somewhere near the bed, and Yuri set to polishing any photos that needed touch-ups. He emailed them as he went, Morooka’s first, then other news outlets. Finally he sent requested sample photos to skaters and their coaches. 

It was after midnight by the time Yuri finished work, showered and climbed into bed. Strong arms immediately wrapped around him, and he felt kisses against his hair. 

Yuri curled into the embrace. He wanted, even as the pain started to build inside him again, he wanted and wished that it really was Victor holding him.

* * *

 

Phichit started crying with joy as he came off the ice, gold medal draped around his neck. 

Yuri rushed over and embraced his friend. “You did it Phichit-kun!”

Phichit squeezed Yuri tight and nodded into his shoulder. “I did it Yuri! I won gold at a Grand Prix event!”

“I always knew you could.”

Yuri looked up to see Chris smiling softly, silver glinting off his chest while Georgi inspected his bronze. 

Nostalgia and pride swelled within Yuri. A part of him wished he was out there competing, but he was also insanely happy for this friends. 

“Phichit, I know you’re the selfie king, but can I get a group photo of the medalists?”

Phichit laughed and wiped his tears. His grin was one of the biggest Yuri had ever seen as he draped his arms over the shoulders of the other men. 

“Root for me in the final!” Phichit demanded. 

* * *

 

Yuri knew he was in for a long night as soon as he stepped off the elevator to find an empty hall. 

Victor was jealous. 

He didn't know how his own delusion could be jealous, but it was. It had started the day before when Chris grabbed his ass, but increased when he hugged Phichit. Then Chris started flirting over dinner, the way Chris always flirted, and Yuri felt the emotion build in the ever-present apparition. 

“At least let me get to the room first,” Yuri muttered under his breath as fingertips dug into his hips. 

The door had no more than closed behind him when Yuri felt himself pushed against the wall. He gasped in shock, it was more force than Victor had ever shown before. 

Hungry, desperate kisses along his neck while a thigh pressed between his legs and rubbed against his cock. 

Yuri’s eyes fluttered shut. It was easier to accept what was happening when he couldn’t see the empty air in front of him. “Victor,” he moaned before his open mouth was claimed for a kiss. 

Hands gripped his hips, holding him while a bulge pressed against his own. 

“ _ Yuri… _ ” The voice dripped with desire.

Yuri whined and gave in. He wanted to be wanted, craved the touch of the lover in his head. 

He was moving again, guided toward the bed. 

Then Victor seemed frustrated. Hands, running along his waist over and over, a growl of annoyance. 

Victor’s hands on his hands, guiding him… His waistband under his fingertips, the button of his fly. 

Victor wanted Yuri’s clothes gone.

Yuri was too far gone to care that he was disrobing for a delusion. He pulled his shirt off and pushed his pants down. As soon as he was naked Victor was on him again, kissing and nipping along his torso while long fingers stroked his cock. 

“Ah, Victor…” Yuri gasped. 

Victor pushed and Yuri fell back onto the bed. Kisses as he scooted back, and hands on his skin. “ _ Yuuuuriii… _ ”

Yuri squeezed his eyes, keeping them firmly shut as hips rocked down against his own. He could feel Victor’s desire, mirroring his own. 

Kisses down his chest, teeth against his nipples. A tongue explored the plateaus and valleys of his muscles. 

Yuri couldn’t keep from thrusting up when he felt lips against the head of his cock, sucking him into a mouth that was at the same time warm yet not there. His fingers curled into the sheets. “Victor…”

Bobbing along his length, tongue dancing on his shaft. Fingers dug into his hips. Yuri gasped and moaned, overwhelmed with sensation. He could feel Victor’s desire for him. It was everything he’d ever wanted, and for a moment he forced the reality from his mind.

“Victor… Victor…” Yuri called, over and over as he grew close. Then strong suction against the head of his cock and it was too much. His back arched, toes and fingers curling into the mattress. 

It was only when he felt hot cum splash on his stomach that he was reminded that nobody else was in the room. 

Yuri started crying, conflicting emotions at war. 

The mood changed instantly, and Yuri was bathed in a sense of regret. Victor wrapped Yuri into an embrace and rocked him as he cried. 

* * *

 

Yuri’s lips were chapped and dry from chewing on them. Every time he passed a display of lip balm Victor tried to get him to buy some until he finally gave in. After that it became a habit in a matter of hours, chew on his lips until Victor patted the pocket. Apply lip balm, repeat. 

Hiroko and Mari fussed over Yuri in the days between the Cup of China and when he needed to head to Nagano for the NHK Trophy. Several times a day one or the other would check for a fever, or insist that he rest. Not that he blamed them. Large circles hung under his eyes, and he knew he looked even worse than he felt. 

Aside from the lip balm, Victor seemed to have the same idea. He backed off, always there, but not as openly physical or possessive of Yuri. 

Yuri wondered how his delusion could be possessive over him, but he’d become too numb to it to question any longer. He was aware that he was very much going insane. 

The NHK Trophy was a calm in the storm. Victor had never skated in the Nagano arena, so Yuri was free to focus on the competition instead of the book. He made the decision to leave the camera with the errors in Hasetsu, which further helped. 

Victor was still there, but weaker. Yuri mostly felt him at night, when arms wrapped around him before sleep. 

By the end of the competition Yuri felt and looked better. Minami had managed to come in fourth, and though he was far from becoming even an alternate for the final had made the home crowd proud. 

Otabek secured his place for the final, and Michele Crispino was well placed going into Moscow. 

Then a couple days at home before Yuri was off again. He flew into Paris and met Chris, who had insisted that since Lyon was an important place for him as well that he might as well join Yuri there. After making the argument that having somebody along who spoke French would make it easier, Yuri finally relented. 

They’d been at the Palais Omnisports de Paris Bercy for several hours, Yuri going up and down the stairs as he recreated photos. 

“Now I know how you were able to develop jumps so fast,” Chris joked as Yuri came back to the ground level. “And why your ass is amazing. You’re not even winded are you?”

Yuri chuckled. “I’ll feel it later, but we have a few hours on the train, then it’ll be too late to do much except head for the hotel when we reach Lyon.”

“And here Josef was worried that I’d get soft taking the extra day to work with you.”

Yuri laughed. “Yurio said I was a slave driver. I bet he’s glad for it now though.”

Chris chuckled. “That kid was already going to be amazing, but he’s close to being on his own level now. Back to your legs though, you really do have impressive stamina.”

“Really?”

“Let me put it this way. It’s a good thing they banned the double quad after you recommended they do so. A lot of people would have been trying, and a lot of people would have been injured. You’ve been up and down these stairs for hours. I’ve been hanging back because I’m competing in a few days, but I know just from watching that I don’t have the stamina for it. If that’s the kind of legs it took to land that jump, then you might have been the only one to do it.”

“I don’t know if I could even land it now,” Yuri admitted. “I was in better shape then. I’ve let training lag somewhat, though I still make the ice every day when I’m at home, and as often as I can when on the road.”

“If this is lagging, then you could probably come back tomorrow and still take home medals.”

Yuri smiled, and held up his camera. “Say cheese!”

Chris promptly turned, stuck out his ass and blew a kiss.

* * *

 

Chris leaned over a railing in the stands. “It was right here…”

“Hmm?” Yuri asked. 

“Europeans, two thousand six. I was right here the first time I met Victor.” He pointed. “The podium for the medal ceremony was there in the middle, and he was coming off the ice, Stephane Lambiel right behind him. Victor wore that blue feathery thing, and had a crown of blue roses. 

“I was fifteen, my sixteenth birthday a month away. Victor had just turned eighteen. I had to congratulate him. I honestly thought my voice would be one of many…”

Yuri felt a sense of nostalgia grow in him at Chris’s words. 

“He asked me my name, tossed me a rose and said he’d see me at Worlds.” Chris chuckled. “He won the Olympics the month following our meeting. He was on top of the world, but he remembered me.”

Yuri smiled. 

“He was different from the start. Almost everybody else treated me as a kid. I still had to skate into a position of challenge. Not Victor. I was a legitimate challenger from our first meeting. I later learned that though he asked my name, he already knew it. He’d researched me along with all the other competitors. He knew our strengths and weaknesses. He planned, considered what we would bring to the ice, and aimed to surpass it. Skating was always serious for him.” Chris smiled. “Of course once he was off the ice it was a different story. He has this zest for life, almost a need to explore and grow. He would always tell me that the only way to skate about it was to know it, so he plunged headlong into discovering as much as he could… At least back then.”

Yuri lifted the camera and snapped a photo of Chris as he looked out over the ice, a dreamy look to his gaze. 

“Ah, Yuri, you know that’s not my best side,” Chris teased. 

Yuri chuckled. “You said you were right there and he came off the ice?”

Chris nodded. 

“Stay there. I think for once I’ll recreate a scene from his point of view.”

Chris smiled. “Ok.”

Yuri moved down to the ground level and stood near the barrier. “Here?”

Chris nodded. 

Yuri lifted his camera again. Chris smiled and leaned over the barrier. 

Laughter and a feeling of friendship filled Yuri’s head as Victor’s presence enjoyed the moment.

* * *

 

Yuri realized too late that he should have expected the welcome he received in Moscow. He was the man who had declared his love for Victor Nikiforov on international television, mentored the star’s protege, and was now crafting a book about him. 

It didn’t take much to realize that a country still mourning the sudden loss of a star would be looking for something to latch on to. 

“Mr. Katsuki, what inspired you to begin your series of photos?”

“Mr. Katsuki, are you sure you’re the right person for a book about Victor?”

“Mr Katsuki, how close are you to Yakov Feltsman and have you visited the hospital that Victor Nikiforov is currently in?”

Yuri sighed. He knew he had to get it over with sooner than later, or they’d make it difficult for him to do his job. 

He stopped and waited for the reporters to gather around. “This weekend isn’t about me,” he declared. “And it’s not about Victor Nikiforov. This weekend is about the men and women who will take their places on the ice and compete for a spot at the Grand Prix Final. I’m here for the same reason you are, to report on the competition.”

He took a deep breath. “My Empty Ice project started by accident, but it helps me to reconcile my dreams with the new reality. When the publisher approached me I saw an opportunity to share that sense of loss with the world. As to whether I’m the right person to work on a book about Victor, I’m the right person for  _ this _ book. I hope there will be others, with their own voices, each documenting his impact on the sport. Victor Nikiforov is a legend in figure skating, and when he wakes up I sincerely hope he sees that. Finally, no, I have not been to the hospital. It’s not my place…”

Yuri felt a flash of annoyance from Victor. 

“I did not know Victor before the accident. We’d only spoken a handful of times. I believe hospitals are places for friends and family, not fans or competitors.”

Yuri caught sight of Yurio walking through the lobby. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somebody I’d like to talk to.”

Pride filled Yuri, and he wasn’t sure if it was his because he’d managed to talk to reporters without getting flustered, or if it was Victor. 

“Yurio!”

Yurio turned, one corner of his mouth twitching up as he tried to maintain his angry facade. “Hey Katsudon.”

They walked toward the elevators together. “How you doing? Ready for the competition?”

Yurio nodded. “Da. I’ve been training just as hard as we did in Hasetsu. JJ is going down this time.”

Yuri laughed. “I told you that you’d need to train hard for the seniors.”

Yurio mumbled something. 

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Thank you…” Yurio said. 

Yuri turned to see the faintest blush tinting his cheeks. 

“I thought you were pushing so hard because I yelled at you in Sochi. But you really were preparing me. I see that now.”

Yuri smiled. “You’re welcome.”

They turned the corner to see the Crispino twins and Emil Nekola arguing with Seung-gil Lee half-in and half-out of the elevator. 

“Umm,” Yuri said. 

The elevator closest to the lobby dinged. 

“I don’t want any of that thank you,” Yuri said and walked right into the open car. Yurio followed. 

“What was that about?” Yurio asked once the doors had closed. 

“Probably Mickey being Sara’s protector again. You’re a bit young to be considered a threat, but just in case… don’t flirt with Sara in front of her brother. If you want to invite her to do anything you invite them as a pair. But don’t accidentally insult her either. If you do that you’ll have both Crispino twins yelling at you.”

Yurio gaped. “It’s that bad?”

Yuri nodded. “They’ve both got strong personalities. But on the flip side they’re insanely loyal. Mickey and Emil seem to fight, but if anybody gives Emil shit Mickey’s almost as protective of the other man as he is of his sister.”

Yurio nodded and the elevator dinged. 

“I’ve got to take empty ice photos in the morning,” Yuri said. “But if you want we can get together after practice.”

Yurio shook his head. “I think I’m doing something with my grandpa. He lives here.”

Yuri grinned. “Have fun then. I know how much he means to you.”

Yurio grinned. “See you at the competition Katsudon!”

Yuri waved as Yurio got out on his floor. 

* * *

Yuri set his camera on the desk and grabbed his computer. He’d stuck around for practice photos and was planning to spend the night going over his angles in search of the best from media row.

He could sense Victor, stronger than he’d been since China, but still respecting Yuri’s space. 

Yuri had to admit that he missed the touches. He chewed his bottom lip. “It… it’s ok,” he told the room. “But, slower. Ok? It was too much too fast.”

He couldn’t explain why he was giving his own delusion permission, but knew that things would remain as they were otherwise. Somehow the thought of that made him ache. 

Almost instantly he felt the brush of fingertips on his cheek, a hand at the small of his back. Gentle kisses on his lips. 

“Victor…” he sighed. 

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

He chased the kisses, knowing he was willingly following his madness. He would look at the new photos, Victor’s presence would strengthen, and he’d lose a bit more of himself to the insanity. 

Somehow insanity seemed preferable to losing Victor a second time. 

He wanted to wrap his arms around the man kissing him, drown in the touches. But he couldn’t even see him. 

He whined as lips trailed across his jaw, scared to admit to himself how much he’d missed it. 

There was a knock at the door. The kisses abruptly stopped. Yuri blinked several times and fought to catch his breath. 

“H-hai!”

“Katsudon?”

Yuri blinked several times. “Yurio?”

“Da. Can I come in?”

Yuri stood and walked to the door. He opened it to see a distressed teen. “Yurio? What’s wrong? Aren’t you supposed to be with your grandpa?”

Yurio walked into the room and right into Yuri’s open arms. “He… he didn’t come to get me. I tried calling his house, but he didn’t answer.”

“Does he have a cell phone you can try?”

Yurio shook his head. “He always said that if somebody wanted to call, then they could call the house.”

Yuri led Yurio into the room and sat him on the edge of the bed. He pulled the chair around to face him. “He probably just didn’t feel good and forgot to call you.”

“I didn’t hurt him did I? I jumped on him yesterday, and forgot about his bad back.” Yurio’s voice was thick with worry. 

“He’ll be fine I’m sure. If everything you’ve said is true then I know he’s a strong man. A little rest should clear him right up.”

Yurio relaxed and even smiled. “Da. You’re right.”

Yuri ruffled Yurio’s hair. “Come on, let’s go down to the restaurant for some food. I won’t be able to read the menu, so you’ll have to order for me.”

Yurio’s smile grew larger. “Ok.”

* * *

Yuri’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the empty ice photos from the Luzhniki Small Sports Arena. Over the course of a single photo session the silver blurs had coalesced into an obvious human shape.

When he added in photos from Moscow’s Megasport Arena, where competions had been held years earlier, including a World Figure Skating Championship, the form grew even more distinct. 

Tears slid down Yuri’s face as he stared. He couldn’t make out specific details, but he was sure it was Victor, long hair trailing behind the form. 

Fingertips against his cheek, trying and failing to wipe away the tears. 

Yuri hiccupped a laugh. “You don’t like to see me cry, do you?”

A thumb against his lips, fingers curling under his chin. He closed his eyes for the kiss. 

“I can’t help it you know…” Yuri said once the kiss ended. “He meant so much to me. I think I’ve even accepted that he’ll never skate again, but…”

Yuri started crying harder, nose stuffing up as the dam burst. “I just want him to wake up. I want him to be ok. I want him to have the long and happy life he deserves. He’s too young to be wasting away in a hospital. There are so many things he can still do, he can still be an inspiration.”

Yuri gasped as the Victor in his head kissed him again, passionately, desperately. “ _ Yuri… _ ”

Yuri’s emotions were too raw, he needed too much. He fell quickly, chasing the touches. 

VIctor backed off, and Yuri whined. “I don’t care anymore…” he whimpered, reaching blindly. “Take away the pain.”

Hesitation. Yuri understood why, the last time he’d allowed things to go too far he’d been hurt, but now the lack of contact hurt worse. “Please…” he begged. 

The kisses started again, and hands against his skin moved in ways to tell him to remove his clothes. He pulled off his shirt and felt the weight of somebody who wasn’t there straddling his lap. Hips rocked against his own. 

He whined, pushing his hips up. He wanted, needed, more. He shifted, saying with his body that he needed to move, and Victor moved from his lap. 

Yuri pulled his pants off and climbed onto the bed. He held out his hands, and was pushed onto his back. They kissed, and he felt pressure as hips rolled against his once more. The delicious feel of a cock pressing against his own, sliding together. 

Yuri gasped and moaned, arching into the sensation. “More…”

Victor shifted, and Yuri felt fingertips brush against his entrance. “Yes…” he hissed, trying to push down against them. “There, please…”

The fingers massaged, loosening and relaxing the muscles before one finally pushed inside. 

“Victor…” Yuri moaned, arching, wanting more. 

Yuri could feel himself stretching, a mix of pain and pleasure with each new finger. He moaned into the desperate kisses, then the sensation was gone. 

Yuri whined in need. 

Pressure and another stretch as Victor pushed inside. Yuri’s back arched. “Victor…”

Lips against his, hands on his hips. He kept his eyes closed and allowed himself the fantasy. 

Victor started moving, and Yuri drowned in pleasure. He gasped and moaned, rolling his hips, seeking more. HIs head fell back against the pillow, exposing his neck. Victor took advantage and started kissing and sucking the smooth skin. 

Yuri wanted to reach up, to wrap his arms around his lover and cling to him. His fingers curled into the bedspread and he whimpered. Kisses, lips, teeth, hands against his skin, and he couldn’t touch in return. He couldn’t give the same pleasure he was receiving. 

He was close when a hand wrapped around his cock. “Victor…” he whimpered, thrusting into the touch then driving back against the sensations coursing through him. 

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

Yuri’s back arched as he came, gasping for breath from the intensity of his orgasm. Victor kept moving throughout, keeping him in the grips of ecstasy for as long as possible. They stayed joined for several minutes after, the feeling of a hard cock inside him fading and the kisses less forceful. 

Yuri realized that Victor was tired. He took a deep breath. “Cuddle?”

More kisses against his lips and forehead, and the pressure inside was gone. He turned into where he could still feel Victor’s presence and relaxed as arms wrapped around him. 

Yuri knew he’d embraced his madness, but didn’t care. 

* * *

Yurio paced the holding area as they resurfaced the ice after the Ice Dance portion. Yuri watched, eventually walking over and putting his hand on the teen’s shoulder.

“Talk to me.”

Yurio looked up. “Grandpa still hasn’t called. He’s not here. He’s not picking up either. He never misses my performances. I’m scared Katsudon, I can’t lose him too.”

Yuri knew that he had to settle the teen’s nerves before he took the ice. “Look at me Yurio.”

Yurio looked up. 

“Try calling again before you skate. And if you haven’t heard from him by the time the ladies are done we’ll take a cab and go to his house to check on him. I’m sure he’s fine though, ok?”

“Then why isn’t he here? Why won’t he answer?”

“Maybe the ringer is off on his phone, maybe he forgot. I don’t know Yurio.”

“But he’s my family.”

Yuri pulled Yurio into an embrace. “So am I, remember? Kaasan, Tousan and Mari-nee san... Minako-sensei, Yuko, Nishigori and the triplets are all rooting for you. You have a huge family all cheering for you now. You’re not fighting alone.”

Yurio stepped back and nodded. He nodded, a determined look in his eyes. “You’re right.”

Yuri smiled. “I have to get to the press booth. Do you want me to come down and be rinkside for you? I’m allowed since I’m your choreographer.”

“And miss out on the best photos anybody will get of me kicking JJ’s ass? Hell no.”

Yuri chuckled. “Ok. I’ll see you after the short program then.”

Yurio nodded and walked away when Yakov called. 

A sense of fondness filled Yuri. “He’s a good kid,” he muttered under his breath. 

Agreement from Victor. 

* * *

Despite their plans to check on Yurio’s grandfather, Yuri saw how the worry weighed on the teen. He missed his triple axel and was late on a couple of his transitions. However, despite the flaws, he was in second place.

Yuri left the press box and reached the backstage area just in time to see Yurio hanging up his cell phone, a look of relief on his face. 

“Good news?” Yuri asked. 

Yurio nodded. “That was grandpa. He said he’ll see me tomorrow.”

Yuri squeezed Yurio’s shoulder. “Told you he was fine.”

Yurio smiled. “Katsudon?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks, for being my family here today, and for believing that Grandpa was fine. I needed that.”

“I’ll always be here for you Yurio.”

Yuri’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He’d ignored it during the final few men’s competitors, but excused himself to answer. He blinked when he saw it was from Mari. 

“Moshi moshi.”

“Yuri?” Mari’s voice was thick with concern. “Sorry to call you during a competition.”

“Mari, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Makka. She got into the steamed buns, and one got stuck in her throat. We’re at the vet now, but we don’t know if she’ll make it.”

_ Vicchan…. _

_ “Makka…” _

Yuri bit his trembling lip. “Tell her to hang on. I’m coming.”

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Poor Yuri thinks he's going nuts. Also, for some odd reason the Makkachoke incident wanted to stay in this already angsty story... so... *shrug*
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	12. Anniversary - Grand Prix Final 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Prix Final arrives, and with it Yuri reaches his breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

“You should get back to the arena Yurio,” Yuri said as he packed. “You’ve got press to do. Besides, Mila is skating soon. Don’t you want to be there for her?”

“I need to be here for you right now,” Yurio replied. “I was worried about grandpa, and now you’re worried about Victor’s doofus of a dog.”

Yuri smiled. “It’s more than that. I… I lost my own dog during the final last year. I couldn’t leave. I can’t let it happen again.”

Yuri was pulling some sweaters from a drawer when he felt arms around his waist from the back. 

“Yurio?”

“I’m sorry Katsudon.”

“Hmm? For what?” 

“For yelling at you in Sochi. I… I could see how much potential you had, and it felt like an insult that you didn’t live up to it. I could strive the rest of my life and not have the raw beauty in skating that you do. I was mad, I thought you’d wasted your talent.”

“Yurio, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not. You were hurting, but nobody knew. You were so strong that you still skated despite the pain. Then I came in and started screaming at you to just retire.”

Yuri felt shock through him, and he knew it was from Victor. He turned in Yurio’s arms and ruffled his blond hair. “I forgave you a long time ago Yurio. You didn’t know, and even if you had… well you were under no obligation to consider my feelings.”

“How can you just forgive me like that? It was horrible what I did!”

Yuri hugged Yurio. “I forgave you like that because I wanted to. Holding onto hurt and anger only makes it stronger. Forgiveness gave us a path forward as friends, which I think is a far better outcome.”

“Katsudon…”

Yuri stepped back, his hands on Yurio’s shoulders. He met the teen’s gaze. “I want you to do your best tomorrow. Your grandpa will be there, and I’ll be there in spirit. You know your program, and I know how beautifully you skate it. I’ll watch it online as soon as I can.”

Yurio nodded. 

“Now, get back to the arena and do your press. I can make it to the airport on my own. I’ll see you at the final.”

Yurio smiled. “With Minako and Mari, right?”

Yuri nodded. “Your family will be there for you.”

Yurio hugged Yuri again. “Thanks Katsudon.”

* * *

 

Yuri’s leg bounced until it ached. His own nerves were compounded by Victor’s presence. He chewed his lip until it ached, then had to wiggle in the seat to get to his lip balm. By the time he reached Seoul for his layover he was a nervous wreck. 

He pulled his phone free as soon as the plane landed and got a signal. “How’s she doing?” Yuri asked before Mari could even reply. 

“She’s out of surgery and is recovering. She hasn’t woken up yet though so they don’t know if there are problems caused by lack of air.” Mari’s voice sounded tired. “Where are you?”

“Seoul. My plane for Fukuoka boards in an hour and a half. Tell Makka to hang on and that I’ll be there soon.”

Yuri paced as he waited to board, adrenaline keeping him awake. 

“ _ Makka… _ ”

“I know I know,” Yuri muttered. “We’re going as fast as we can.”

An old woman nearby gave Yuri a curious look as he talked to himself. He turned and paced the other direction. 

For the first time Yuri started to wonder if perhaps Victor really wasn’t a delusion. His nerves were high, even for him. Then there was the surprise at Yurio’s apology. Why would his own delusion be surprised to learn that the teen had yelled at him in a bathroom?

He tried to sleep on the plane, but instead ended up staring out over the water.

“ _ Makka… _ ”

Yuri clenched his fist. “Shut up, I know…” he hissed, glad that the person in the seat next to him was asleep. “I’m worried too.”

There was a whine in his head, then he was assailed by memories. Running after the dog down an unfamiliar street, sitting on a beach and running fingers through thick brown fur. Scolding the poodle for chewing on shoes that weren’t his. 

Yuri clawed at his head. “Stop it!”

The memories stopped. 

Nervous chatter. 

Yuri looked up to see several people staring at him. He bowed reflexively. “Sorry everybody,” he waved his phone. “Frustrating level on a game.”

A couple people nodded, and several others studied him before returning their attention elsewhere. 

Yuri sighed and returned to staring out the window. 

* * *

 

Mari met Yuri at the train station with the car. They loaded his luggage into the trunk and raced to the vet’s office. 

“She was awake when I called just before your train came in,” Mari explained, easing the car into traffic. “They still can’t say if there will be any long-term damage.”

“I’m horrible,” Yuri cried, clenching his fists. “Yakov said that she’d had a hard time since the accident. Then I wasn’t here for her when she needed me.”

“It’s not your fault Yuri,” Mari said. “He said she’d been doing things like not eating, or whining endlessly. She was eating fine, and was happy. This was an accident, and could have happened even if you’d been here.”

Yuri felt a sense of agreement from Victor, whom had been quiet since Yuri had blown up on the flight. 

They were silent until they reached the vet. Yuri barely allowed the car to stop before he threw off his seatbelt and ran in. 

“Makkachin!” he gasped at the receptionist. 

She nodded politely and took him back to the recovery area. An assistant took over from there, showing Yuri to the kennel and opening it. 

“Makka…” Yuri cooed, kneeling beside the open door. “Hey girl. How you doing?”

Makkachin’s eyes opened, and as soon as she focused on Yuri her tail started thumping against the floor. 

Yuri sat and reached into the kennel to scratch behind Makkachin’s ears. Her tail immediately wagged harder. “Don’t scare me like that girl. You should know better than to get into the steamed buns.”

Makkachin let out a huff, and Yuri laughed. “You’re going to be fine, aren’t you?”

Makkachin looked at him and barked, eyes bright. 

“Well that’s the best she’s looked since she woke up,” the vet assistant said, peeking her head over Yuri’s shoulder. “Seems having her family around was just what she needed to pull through.”

Yuri felt tears at the corner of his eyes, and he knew not all of them were his. “Yeah!”

* * *

 

A sharp crack echoed through the Ice Castle as Yuri landed a quad flip. He immediately started gaining speed again, and launched a quad lutz after circling the ice. 

Awe coursed through him, and once more he questioned whether Victor was really a figment of his imagination. 

Yuri skated to the barrier and looked over at where Makkachin rested. Her head came up at seeing movement, and she thumped her tail on the floor. 

“You seem happy,” Yuri smiled. “Glad to be out of the vet’s office?”

Makkachin barked, then curled back up to resume her nap. 

Yuri took a long sip of water, then chewed on his lip. 

The crowds would love it…

More importantly,  _ he _ shouldn’t be surprised. 

Yuri sighed, skated to the barrier and slipped on his skate guards. He walked toward the lobby, where Yuko sat behind the counter. “Yuko?”

She looked up from a figure skating magazine. “What is it Yuri?”

“I… need a spotter.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the security monitors. Closer than that?”

Yuri nodded. “I’m… I’m going to see if I can still land it… for the exhibition.”

Yuko’s eyes grew wide. “It… you mean?”

Yuri nodded. “Don’t jinx it.”

Yuko jumped up and ran to the locker room, where Nishigori was cleaning. “Takeshi! Yuri’s going to try it!”

Nishigori strode out a few seconds later. “Are you serious? I thought you said you’d never do it again.”

Yuri chewed his lip again. “I know… but… it’s for Victor.”

Both Yuko’s and Nishigori’s faces softened. 

“We’ll spot it Yuri,” Yuko said. “Should I put on skates?”

Yuri shook his head. “No. I’m going to go warm up for it.”

“We’ll be there as soon as we put the sign on the door.”

Yuri nodded. 

Confusion coursed through Yuri as he removed his skate guards and stepped back onto the ice. 

“You’re a figment of my imagination,” he accused. “This is my signature move so you shouldn’t be surprised.”

Yuri rounded the rink and launched a triple axel. 

Satisfaction. 

He rounded the rink again as Yuko and Nishigori came in. Quad sal - triple toe - triple loop. 

Victor was impressed, but curious when only polite applause sounded from Yuko and Nishigori.

“ _ Yuri…? _ ”

“Just wait,” Yuri hissed, gaining speed. 

The windows became a blur, then he drove the toepick into the ice, landed the first quad, and put his hand down on the second. 

“Yuri! That was amazing!” Yuko cried. 

“I never thought I’d see that again,” Nishigori said, emotion in his voice. 

Yuri smiled at them, even as overwhelming shock coursed through him. 

“ _ Yuri…” _

* * *

 

Yuri had no sooner than closed the door to his room than Victor was all over him, kissing and touching. 

The sense of awe hadn’t dissipated, even after Yuri tried a couple more times and eventually cleanly landed the combination jump. 

Lips on his, hands holding his hips tight. He could feel an erection pressing against him. 

Yuri stepped back, and Victor followed. 

Tears slid down Yuri’s cheek. “You’re a figment of my imagination!” he cried, turning his back on the desire to give in. “Why were you surprised at my signature move? I’m well aware that I’m the only male skater who can land it. I trained it for weeks, until my legs ached. I broke Victor Nikiforov’s records with it! 

“I’m used to hearing the voice of doubt, my own anxiety telling me that I can’t. Even when I was setting up for it I heard it in the back of my mind, telling me it had been too long, that I was too out of practice. 

“I didn‘t get that from you! You were shocked and amazed that it was done at all. And that scares me…”

Yuri walked over and sat on his bed. 

Pressure on his back, hands on chest, lips on his hair as he was embraced. 

“I try and try to explain your presence, and the longer this goes on the more I’m left with only two options. One is that I’m so insane I’m creating personalities that aren’t aware of my history… likes and dislikes. The other is that I’m being haunted somehow.”

Yuri clawed at his hair. “Do you know what a scary thought either of those is?”

The arms around him tightened. 

“I call you Victor,” Yuri continued after a moment. “Because you came to me as him in my dream. At some point this has to stop! Thinking of him, laying in the hospital with an uncertain chance of recovery… it hurts! I know I love him, that I always have. You’re fulfilling my fantasy, but doesn’t that do a disservice to his memory?” 

Victor moved, and Yuri felt a tug on his hand. He held it out, felt kisses on his ring finger. 

“Who are you?” he whispered. “Are you my insanity? Or are you really somebody else?”

* * *

 

Yuri knelt in the genkan. He scratched behind Makachin’s ears. “Be a good girl. No more steamed buns. I’ve got to go photograph the final, then I’ll be back for longer.”

On impulse Yuri leaned in and hugged the poodle. “Watch the house for me Makka.”

Makkachin huffed an agreement. 

Yuri turned to Mari and Minako. “I’ll see you two when you get there in a few days.”

“Say hi to Yurio for us,” Minako said. 

Yuri nodded. “Of course. He’s excited to see you too.”

“Go on Yuri,” Mari said. “You’ll miss your train.”

Yuri nodded. 

Victor’s presence was nearby. He’d backed off again, but Yuri knew it was only a matter of time before he fell back into the arms of his phantom lover. He felt the desire, the longing for the touch. 

He was like a yo-yo, up and down, and he knew he was on the downswing again.

* * *

“Yuri Katsuki, media, checking in.”

The woman at the table smiled at him and rummaged through the event passes. A minute later she handed him his credentials. 

“Thank you,” Yuri said with a slight bow. 

“It’s a shame you’re not skating,” she said. “I watched you last year and thought you’d make the podium this year for sure.”

Yuri smiled softly. “Thank you.”

“Can… can I have an autograph for my son? He wants to skate just like you one day.”

Yuri smiled. “Of course.” He accepted a pen and piece of paper. “Will you be bringing him to the exhibition?”

She nodded. “One of the perks of working the event. He’s already excited to see you.”

“Find me after and we’ll take a photo together.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “You’d do that?”

Yuri chuckled. “Just don’t let it get around, but if he wants to be a skater then a word of encouragement couldn’t hurt.”

“Oh thank you!”

Yuri smiled. “Um… I know it’s early. But is the arena open? I’d like to take some photos.”

“There’s nobody in there. Practice is already over for the day.”

“That’s perfect.”

“Then feel free.”

“Thank you.” Yuri bowed again and walked toward the ice. 

Victor had skated there for the Grand Prix Final three years prior, before Fukuoka, and Yuri needed an empty ice photo. Since the venue was a convention center he had to take advantage of the ice setup before it was removed again.

As soon as Yuri was alone he felt Victor’s presence strengthen. There was an excitement, and Yuri felt the urge to dance. 

He smiled. He knew it was Victor who was so enthusiastic. 

Yuri weaved through crews setting up for the event, and made his way up the stands. He set his bag down and pulled out a handful of photocopied photos showing Victor from different angles. He committed the details to memory, then made his way rinkside. He took several photos at ice level, then went back to the seating. He quickly found that the media booths were in the same place as three years prior, and wandered along the level filled with tables and microphone stands. 

Once he was done with recreating the media photos he started through the stands, finding the angles of where bloggers and others whose photos had been bought were. 

Victor seemed to grow stronger with each photo, and memories assailed Yuri again. The chill of the ice, waving to adoring crowds as flowers and plushes rained down. 

Yuri took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Please… I’m retired now.”

Sorrow. 

Yuri finished the photos, then climbed the stands to the competitor viewing area. He took a seat as far from the steps as possible. 

Confusion filled him as he stared out at the ice, until he pulled out his phone and opened an old photo. 

Victor was in the center of the screen, coming out of a jump. Yuri sighed. 

“I didn’t bring my photography gear. I was so nervous.”

Yuri paused and stared. He could feel Victor’s confusion. 

“I was the first alternate that year… In a normal year I wouldn’t have been here at all. Alternates are so rarely called up. But the Japanese Skating Federation insisted. Takahashi had made the final, but he’d had skate problems all season. Then, a few days before he left, Kozuka injured his instep. 

“They didn’t want to take the chance that one of the other skaters withdrew and me not be ready. So I was sent as well. Japan had two skaters, and they intended to be well represented.”

Yuri paused. “I’d met Victor once when I was a junior, when I won the Junior Grand Prix Final. But we’d never met on the ice once I moved up. Somehow we were always assigned to different Grand Prix series events, and with several national champions staying at the top of the podium I never made worlds. 

“Then I was here, with the very real possibility that I would finally meet him. I never wished harder for somebody to withdraw, while at the same time wishing them the best.”

Yuri lifted his camera, moved down to the railing and took the photo. 

“It wasn’t my first time seeing him skate in person. Phichit and I went every time we could, every time he was close to Detroit. We went to Canada when worlds was held in London, and when Skate Canada was in Windsor. We were thrilled two years ago when Skate America was held in Detroit and he was assigned there, then again last year in Chicago.

“I always dreamed about skating against him. Then last year it happened… and I made a fool of myself. Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Vicchan… I guess you might not know about Vicchan. Vicchan was my toy poodle. I named him after Victor. He was killed in an accident on the day between the short program and the free skate. 

“I missed every jump. I guess it was to be expected. But my big moment turned into a big failure.”

Yuri sighed.  

Arms squeezed him tight and kisses rained on his cheeks. 

“I don’t know how to live without looking up and reaching for Victor Nikiforov. He’s been there, on the horizon for half my life. My dream, and my love.”

Yuri sniffled and started putting his gear back into his bag. 

“I don’t want to admit that he might never wake up…”

Yuri closed the bag and walked back down to the ground level. He turned toward the lobby, but felt a tug on his hand. 

“Victor?”

The tug was stronger, and Yuri decided to follow. He weaved through corridors until they were out of the heavy traffic of workers setting up for the final. 

“Where…?”

Yuri was led to a restroom. He went in, flicked on the light, and his hand was moved to the lock. Yuri hesitated for a moment before turning it, but they hadn’t passed anybody and the light was off. It was open more as a precaution than as a restroom people expected to use that day. 

As soon as the lock was flipped Victor was on him, kissing and touching everywhere. 

Yuri moaned. Each touch was dripping with desire, an ache of desperation laced throughout.

Yuri felt  _ wanted _ and he was helpless to resist. He pushed his pants down as soon as Victor’s fingers trailed along his waistband. He was already half-hard, and he moaned when fingers wrapped around him. 

“Victor…” he whimpered. 

Kisses against his neck, a cock grinding against him. Hands on his shoulders, urging him to turn around. Yuri turned and gasped as fingers pushed against his entrance. He pushed back and muffled a cry with his fist as one slipped inside. 

Victor opened him quickly, and Yuri braced himself with an arm against the wall when he felt the thick head of a cock pushing against him. 

“Don’t tease,” Yuri begged. “Please, I need you.”

Victor kissed the back of Yuri’s neck as he pushed in, and Yuri whined for more. He moaned at the mix of pain and pleasure as he took the cock faster than he should have. 

He needed it. He needed to feel loved, needed a distraction from the pain. He needed to be reminded that there was a life outside of his shattered dreams. 

Yuri muffled another cry as the cock in his ass brushed against his sweet spot. Then Victor snapped his hips forward and set a fast and furious pace. 

Yuri ground back, moaning as he quickly came apart with pleasure. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked to the same punishing rhythm until it was too much. 

Yuri bit down on the hand against the wall as he came, muffling his screams of pleasure. 

Victor moved for a few more thrusts then stilled. 

Gentle kisses on Yuri’s shoulders, an arm around his waist, holding him close. 

“ _ Yuri _ …”

“Victor…”

* * *

Yuri stared at the photos. The figure grew clearer with each one, blurs that had been arms and legs developed elbows and hands rather than smooth curves.

But it was the hair that made Yuri cry. 

At the beginning of the shoot the figure had appeared to have long hair, but as it grew clearer the hair got shorter and the figure got taller.

He was reminded of Victor’s own progression, from long-haired teen to fashionable young man. 

“I’m seeing things…” Yuri decided, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve been looking at these photos for so long that I’m seeing what I want.”

He stood and walked over to the bed. He fell onto the plush surface. “Victor…”

Arms pulled him close and rubbed soothing lines up and down his back. 

“Why are you so good to me? I’m still not convinced you’re not just a figment of my imagination.”

Kisses on the top of his head. “ _ Yuri _ …”

Yuri closed his eyes. “Make love to me.”

Hesitation, then a kiss on the forehead. 

“Please.” Yuri reached, trying to touch the face of his lover. 

Victor shifted and put his face in Yuri’s open hand. He shook his head and kissed his palm. Fingertips dragged down Yuri’s eyelids. 

“Why?” Yuri started crying. 

Fingertips against his eyelids again, lips against his temple. 

“What do you want from me?” Yuri begged as he started crying harder. 

* * *

Yuri skated to the barrier, grabbed a towel and wiped his brow. It was just him and Cao Bin on the ice, practicing before the competitors.

Yuri looked around the arena. It was early enough that even the staff were yet to arrive. It was just him, Cao Bin, his coach, and a couple maintenance men. 

Yuri watched Cao stumble out of a triple lutz, get up and rub his leg. 

Yuri skated over to where Cao and his coach were talking at the barrier. 

“You ok?” Yuri asked. “You’re not pushing your recovery are you?”

Cao smiled. “I’ll be ok Yuri. I’ll probably stick to doubles though. My triples are still shaky.”

Yuri nodded. “Do you mind if I practice something before more people arrive? I’ll need full ice to get enough speed.”

“You’re going to use the double quad?”

Yuri chewed his lip. “Maybe. I know I said I’d never skate it again, but… it’s an exhibition to honor Victor.”

Cao was silent for a moment. “Go ahead, I need to give my leg a break anyway. Besides. I’d love to see it again.”

Yuri smiled. He launched the jump several times, landing shakily at first, then getting better, before deciding that he’d had enough. He let Cao know, then practiced his step sequence. 

The men’s competitors were preparing to take the ice when Yuri’s and Cao’s time was up. Phichit glomped Yuri as soon as his hard guards were on and he’d stepped away from the barrier. 

“Yuri! Why didn’t you answer last night? I wanted to go sight seeing!.”

Yuri smiled. “Sorry. I fell asleep early.”

“Still jet lagged?”

Yuri shook his head. “Not that, just… exhausting day.”

Phichit scowled and ran his hand through Yuri’s hair. “I thought you were sleeping better.”

“I am, sort of.”

Phichit’s scowl deepened, but Yuri was saved by Celestino. 

“Phichit! Ice! Now! You can catch up with Yuri after practice.”

Yuri sighed. “Sorry coach, I’ll be here for a bit, until after noon at least. I need to get photos of all the practices, especially the ladies. Japan has two women competing, and a pair.”

Celestino sighed. “My orders still stand. Phichit can catch up later.”

“You better get good photos of me Yuri,” Phichit demanded. 

Yuri chuckled. “As if you could ever look bad in a photo.”

“That’s what I’d have my fans believe.”

“I’ll make sure you shine Phichit.”

Phichit grinned and skated off. Yuri turned to head to the locker room and saw Yurio approaching the ice. Yurio looked tired, but Yuri wasn’t surprised given his competition schedule. 

Yuri smiled and walked over to the teen. He held out his hand. “Congratulations Yurio. Your first gold in your senior career. Golden Spin is a good competition.”

“Tch,” Yurio said. “They were nothing. I’ve got my eye on JJ.”

Yuri laughed. “I believe in you.”

Yurio smirked. “Thanks Katsudon.”

Yuri reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Yurio’s ear. “Get out there and show the world the new Yuri Plisetsky.”

Yurio nodded. 

“Yuuuuuri!” Phichit complained, skating past. “You’re supposed to be cheering for me! I’m your best friend.”

Yuri laughed. “Don’t worry Phichit, I’ll cheer for you too.”

* * *

Yuri stared at the photo on his computer screen, looked over to his camera bag, then back to the photo.

A tear slid down his cheek. “No.. not again.”

Off to one side of the photo was a human-shaped silver blur. 

Yuri looked at the camera attached to his computer. It was the new one, the old glitchy one still sitting in the camera bag. 

Yuri clawed at his hair. He turned the camera off, removed the memory card and looked at it. It didn’t have the mark he’d added to all the old cards. 

Yuri hunched over the desk, head in his hands. The photo itself wasn’t special, he could easily afford to not sell it. But he couldn’t have the glitches move to the new camera. 

“Is this you?” Yuri begged of Victor’s presence. “Is this your way of proving you’re real? Or is my insanity manifesting itself?”

Pressure at his back and hands sliding down his chest, kisses on his hair. 

A knock at the door, and Victor backed off immediately. Yuri closed the lid on his laptop and moved to answer it. 

“Yuri!” Phichit called. “Come on. I talked to Morooka, and he said you already gave him practice photos from today. Let’s go have fun.”

Yuri sighed, and looked back to his computer. Victor touched his arm, pushing it toward the door. 

“You want me to go out too?” he breathed.

A hand pushing against his back. Yuri bit his lip and sighed again before steeling himself for the overwhelming exuberance of his friend. 

“Yuri!” Phichit cried before hugging him. He held a steaming cup from the hotel’s coffee shop in one hand.

“Hi Phichit-kun.”

“Come on Yuri! Let’s go sightseeing,” Phichit said excitedly. “I saw the Sagrada Familia yesterday, but there’s so much to do. We can go to the Barcelona Cathedral, or to the Casa Batlló.”

“I dunno Phichit, it’s getting late.”

“Nonsense!” Phichit pouted. “It’s a big city, plenty of places are open late. I’m sure we’ll find things to do.”

“No.. I…” Yuri sighed. “I meant it’s late, and I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

Phichit pouted. “Yuuuuuuuri.”

Yuri sighed. “Just a little while Phichit..”

“Yay!”

Phichit practically dragged Yuri to the elevator. “Barcelona is an amazing city Yuri, you’ll see. Once we start exploring you’ll be excited I promise.”

“Just a little bit Phichit,” Yuri reminded as the elevator went down. 

“Then let’s plan the next few days!”

Yuri chewed his bottom lip, aware of Victor’s presence just behind them. “Phichit, I’m not going to have a lot of free time.”

“We’ll just have to sneak off when we can! A quick stop during lunch, or a detour on the way back to the hotel.”

“Phichit…” Yuri sighed. The elevator dinged and let them into the lobby. They headed across the tile floor for the doors.. 

“How’s your schedule tomorrow? After practice I’m free until the opening ceremony. We can go get paella, do some shopping.”

“Phichit… I’ll be lucky if I’m able to sneak away for a sandwich.  Practice starts early with Cao Bin and I, then the juniors, then the seniors. Then final checks. The junior competition starts early in the afternoon, then the opening ceremony, then pairs and men. It’s a full day.”

“So we’ll do something after?”

“When? Luckily I’ve been getting my photo releases as people come off practice so I shouldn’t be chasing, but I have to come right back and clean up the photos. Newspapers and websites are all on deadlines. I have to do color correction and stuff and send the photos right back to any reporters who buy from me.”

“Ok, that’s the opening day. But the second day should be better, right?” Phichit pushed. 

“Not really. It’s still full.”

Phichit scowled. “Come on Yuri, there has to be time.” He turned to face Yuri, one hand on Yuri’s shoulder, the other holding the steaming cup.  “Japan doesn’t have anybody in the junior pairs, ladies or in the synchronized skating event. Ditch those and hang out with me for a few hours on Saturday.”

“I’m selling to more people than Morooka.”

“Come on Yuri!” Phichit begged.

“Enough Phichit!” Yuri cried, smacking the annoying, steaming cup from Phichit’s hand. It splashed across the floor as Yuri crouched and held his head in his hands. “Just… enough.”

Phichit hissed in a breath and crouched next to Yuri. He reached out, hesitated, then put a hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “This isn’t about the schedule, is it?”

Yuri looked at his friend and wondered how he must look, wild eyed and lashing out. 

“The photos Phichit… It’s starting again and I’m seeing things. I’m going crazy Phichit.”

Hushed whispers as people avoided them and the spill on the floor. 

“What photos Yuri? The practice photos?”

Yuri shook his head, hesitated, then resumed shaking it. “No, not really. The Empty Ice photos.”

Phichit took Yuri’s arm and helped him stand again. He led him over to a quiet corner where there were a couple plush chairs. He sat Yuri down then knelt in front of him. “What about the photos Yuri?”

“I see him in them Phichit…”

“Who?”

“Victor! Who else? He’s there, on the ice, dancing for me alone.”

“Victor is showing up in your photos?”

Yuri clawed at his hair. “Yes… no… I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.”

“Why?”

“It’s a blur, a silver shaped blur. But I’m pretty sure it’s Victor.”

“Ok…”

“Phichit, it started on my old camera. I thought it was just a glitch. But now it’s on my new camera too.” He looked into the eyes of his friend. “Phichit. I hear things, and feel them. Am I going insane?”

Phichit took several deep breaths, then hugged Yuri. “Let’s go get dinner… then I’ll come back and look. I’ll let you know if you’re crazy or not. Ok?”

Yuri nodded. 

He wiped his eyes, then his phone dinged with a text. He opened it to a frantic message from Mari. 

_ Yuri! Help! Yurio is having coffee with Otabek Altin! Get us in on this! _

Yuri laughed. 

“What is it?” Phichit asked. 

“Yurio and Otabek are having coffee and Minako and Mari are freaking out. They want to meet everybody.”

“So let’s do that.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve got Chris’s number, Cao Bin’s and JJ’s. You’ve got mini-Yuri’s and Mickey’s right? If Otabek is with mini-Yuri he can pass on the invite.”

“What invite?”

“Let’s all have dinner together.”

“Ok. Let’s do that.” Yuri smiled and nodded. “No JJ though. He and Yurio don’t get along.”

“I would have only asked him to be polite anyway. He’s too bombastic, even for me.”

Yuri smiled. “Thanks Phichit.”

“Great, you start with mini-Yuri and I’ll call Chris.”

Yuri nodded. 

* * *

Minako and Mari were crying at the far end of the table, and Yuri was starting to rethink his life choices. The dinner had ballooned to twelve people. Yurio, Otabek, Michele and Emil were on his right, Phichit sat next to him on the left, and the other side of the table held Chris, Cao Bin, Sara and Mila.

Mila was laughing and patting Minako’s shoulder, while Mickey just stared, mouth agape. 

“You two are way too excited about this,” Yurio declared. 

Chris smiled. “Look at it this way kitten. They’re politely crying in excitement, not chasing you down the street like that pack of girls earlier today.”

“Tch,” Yurio complained. “Nice of you to notice and do nothing to help.”

Otabek glanced at Yurio. “Just let me know if they get bad again.”

Yurio smiled softly. “Thanks Beka.”

The food arrived and Mari and Minako calmed down enough to eat and engage with those around the table. It was as the meal was winding down that the conversation turned back to the competition. 

“It’s hard to believe I’m here,” Yuri said, looking around the table. “After everything that’s happened the past year... “

Phichit hugged Yuri. 

“He would have loved this,” Mila said softly. “He always loved being able to just enjoy time with everybody without the pressure of immediate competition.”

Chris sighed and nodded. 

Yuri chewed his bottom lip. “I should have been more open to doing things with all of you last year. Instead I was always alone, and I missed my chance. I didn’t even gather the nerve to talk to Victor.”

Silence, then everybody who’d been there the previous year turned to stare. 

“Who needed to talk when your body was saying everything you wanted?” Michele said. 

“What?” 

“Yuri?” Cao Bin asked. “Did… did you forget?”

“Forget what?”

“Are you kidding me!” Yurio blared. “You mean you don’t remember?”

Yuri felt the blood drain from his face. “What did I do?”

“Yuri…” Chris drawled. “You got drunk on champagne, and started challenging people to dance-offs.”

“No…” Yuri whispered. 

“Yuri, I’m disowning you if you lost,” Minako declared. 

“I was humiliated,” Yurio complained. 

“I did mine mostly-naked,” Chris purred. “On a pole.”

“Pole?” Minako demanded. 

“It was for leg strength, I swear!” Yuri argued. 

“Uh-huh…”

“I’ve got pictures,” Chris offered. “He was quite impressive.”

“No!” Yuri cried, reaching for but failing to grab Chris’s phone. Then held his head. “Oh my god. I tried to limit myself, but I got just as drunk and crazy as Tousan.”

“You wanna see?” Chris offered Phichit, who immediately moved to look at the photos. 

“Yuri!” That’s filthy!”

“We wanna see!” Mari and Minako cried in unison, jumping up to look at the photos. 

“Stop!” Yuri cried.

“Why are you so ashamed Yuri?” Sara asked. “You livened up a super boring party. Everybody loved it.”

“You mean you loved it,” Michele said. 

“Same thing!” Sara replied. “And Victor seemed to enjoy it too.”

“Victor?” Yuri squeaked. 

“Da,” Mila replied, soft smile on her face. “I hadn’t seen him smile like that in years. He was having so much fun.”

“Though he seemed speechless after you asked him to be your coach,” Cao Bin added. 

“I did what?”

Chris chuckled. “Oh that was a glorious sight, you were grinding on him in your excitement, babbling in Japanese. Then you yelled ‘Be my coach Victoooorrrrrrr!’”

Yuri buried his head in his hands as silence filled the table. 

“He was thinking about doing it,” Mila said after a moment. “You were all he could talk about when we got back to Saint Petersburg.”

Yuri looked up. 

Yurio nodded. “Not around Yakov of course, but he had a playlist of your old routines and would spend every spare moment watching them. He’d grumble under his breath that the only thing you needed to work on was your nerves, then just learning new jumps.”

“What?” Yuri asked.

“He called me after I got home,” Chris said. “Said that you were so drunk you passed out almost as soon as he got you back to your room. But he’d hoped to see you again and had even made plans to talk to you after nationals.”

“Victor didn’t take me to my room,” Yuri stated. 

“Oh he took you to your room,” Chris responded. “I was in the elevator until you got off on your floor.”

“But it can’t have been Victor. There was a note in the room. It was initialed B H.”

“B H?” Chris asked. 

Yurio and Mila shared a look. Mila grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from her purse. She scribbled on it and passed it to Yurio, who nodded. 

Yurio passed the paper to Yuri, who looked at it. ‘виктор никифоров’ was written in neat lettering. “Umm…”

“It’s Victor’s name,” Mila said. “Written in Cyrillic.. Look at the initials.”

“B… H…” Yuri felt tears sting at the corners of his eyes. “You mean...?”

“Victor took you to your room,” Chris said. “And… only Yakov and I knew this until now, but... “ he sighed. “The day of the accident he was listening to a playlist of old competitions, specifically what announcers had to say about you.”

Tears started down Yuri’s face. “But that means…”

“He was thinking of  _ you _ when that car hit him.”

“Oh my god…” Yuri cried, putting his head in his hands. “It’s my fault. If he hadn’t been listening…”

“He would have still been hit!” Yurio quickly yelled. “He was walking back from dinner, and almost always wore headphones when he walked. Even if he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have been able to avoid it. It happened too fast.”

“But…”

Mila stood and walked over, she draped herself over Yuri. “It wasn’t your fault. You made him smile, more than I’d seen in years. So don’t you dare blame yourself for something you had no part in.”

Chris nodded. “Even Yakov, when he saw the playlist, knew that, for once, Victor was relaxed and happy. He wasn’t stressing about his programs in those minutes, and he was grateful for that.”

Yuri chewed on his lip, unable to speak.

“To Victor,” Cao Bin suddenly declared, holding up his glass. “Who would have been here today were it not for a random accident. May he recover and never be forgotten.”

All eyes turned to the Chinese skater, then glasses started going up around the table as Mila, Mari and Minako returned to their seats.

“To VIctor,” Chris echoed. “My best friend. May he wake up soon.”

“To Victor,” Phichit said. “Whom I know way too much about thanks to Yuri.”

Polite laughter around the table. 

“To Victor,” Sara said before Yuri could compose his toast. “A true legend and inspiration to all of us.”

“To Victor,” Mila said. “Who stayed after practice to critique my jumps and made me a better skater.”

“To Victor,” Mari said. “Whose name was akin to gold at home growing up, and whose merchandise was the best bribe to get out of chores.”

Yuri groaned. 

“To Victor,” Minako added. “Both a goal and a prod to a student who wanted nothing more than to meet him at his level.”

“To Victor,” Emil said. “Whom I’d only met a couple times, but was always ready with a word of advice.”

“To Victor,” Michele started. “Who always skated his passion for the ice.”

“To Victor,” Otabek said softly. “A strong man who persisted against the words of all critics.”

“To Victor,” Yurio said, biting his lip. “A man who believed I was capable of more, and pushed me to be better, even when he was annoying.”

Then the toast had made its way to Yuri again. “To Victor,” he said softly. “My life, and my love. Whose loss impacted me so much that I was able to give the most beautiful performances of my career as a tribute to what he meant to me.”

There was a moment of silence, then everybody drank. 

“What’s with the gloomy faces?” a boisterous voice demanded. “Cheer up! JJ is here!”

Everybody around the table shared a glance.

“I should get some sleep,” Cao Bin stated. “That special practice is brutally early.”

Yuri nodded. “I agree, and I’ve got to prep for tomorrow too.”

“I’m coming with you Yuri!” Phichit declared. 

“Let’s go see if there are any stores open still!” Sara cheered. “Mila, Mari, Minako, you up for some late-night shopping?”

“Looks like we’re on bag carrying duty,” Michele said. “Come on Emil.”

“Show me around on your bike,” Yurio demanded. 

“Sure Yura,” Otabek replied. 

“Chris?” Phichit asked. “What are you up to now?”

Chris smiled. “I’ll walk back as far as an open church, but I’ve made a habit of lighting a candle the night before each skate, a light for him to follow back.”

They stood as a group and left the restaurant, JJ and his fiancee standing in shock. A few minutes later they dispersed. 

Yuri and Phichit accompanied Chris to a small church near the hotel that was still open. 

“You two can come in if you’d like,” Chris said. 

They nodded and followed him as he looked around. Eventually Chris found what he was looking for, a small alcove filled with candles. He found an unlit one, lit it and bowed his head in prayer. 

“May I help you?”

Yuri and Phichit tuned to see a priest standing nearby. 

“Our friend is lighting a candle,” Yuri replied softly. “We have… another friend… who is sick.”

“I see,” the priest smiled. “You’re welcome to join him. I’m sure your friend would appreciate any extra prayers.”

Yuri smiled. “It’s ok? We… We’re not Catholic,” he replied, gesturing between himself and Phichit. 

The priest smiled again. “The lord does not discriminate against those who would seek his assistance, as long as their desires are pure of heart. Wishing for the wellbeing of another is a request as pure as freshly fallen snow.”

“Phichit?” Yuri asked. 

Phichit shrugged. “Might as well, we’re here.It can’t hurt.”

Yuri nodded. “What do we do?”

The priest walked over, mindful of Chris, and pointed. “Simply find a candle, light it and say a prayer for your friend. Leave it burning so that the light may carry your request to the Lord.”

Yuri and Phichit both nodded and thanked the priest. 

Yuri’s thoughts turned to Victor as he lit a candle. Eventually they coalesced into a single desire, a prayer for Victor to recover and have a long and happy life.

On instinct Yuri bowed and clapped twice, then bowed again. He only realized he’d done it when Phichit chuckled. 

“Not the right ritual,” Chris said fondly, “but I think the message was delivered regardless.” He paused. “Thank you.”

They made their way quietly from the church, thanking the priest on the way out. 

“Is Victor religious?” Phichit asked once they were back on the street and headed to the hotel. 

“I believe his family is Eastern Orthodox,” Chris replied. “But I don’t think he practiced much, at least he never did around me. Then again, I’d drifted away myself, and came back after his accident.”

Chris stopped walking, and turned his head upward. “It really does mean a lot that you two joined me tonight. A part of me feels that the prayer will be stronger, that it’ll be enough this time.”

Yuri smiled. “I wish I’d have known back during worlds. I’d have taken you to a Shinto shrine.”

Chris looked at Yuri, one eyebrow raised. 

“Might as well cover all the bases,” Yuri replied.

Chris chuckled then started walking again. 

“You might not remember talking to him Yuri,” Chris said after several minutes, “but I think you changed Victor’s life that night a year ago. He’d never had admitted it to the media, and I don’t think he told Yakov, though the coach likely knew anyway….”

Chris paused. “Victor felt he was losing his edge.”

They stopped and looked out over the beach, the water out of sight in the darkness but the sound of waves carrying to them. 

“We’re all skating on borrowed time,” Chris continued. “Eventually our bodies will protest, complain that we’ve made one too many jumps, fallen too many times. Victor was well aware that he was approaching retirement age, whether he wanted to or not. Heck, I’m two years younger than him, and I know my remaining time is limited.

“Even more threatening than age though, was lack of inspiration. Victor was so lonely in his everyday life. Outside of competition and special events he rarely allowed himself to let loose or have fun. That many medals comes with a price, and Victor’s was the experience of youth. His life, since he was a child, was skating. Victor is a genius, but he never attended school and made friends. Instead he had world-class tutors, even through college courses. Vacations were taken around exhibitions, training was never more than a few days away. He couldn’t take the time from the ice. Despite the preconceptions surrounding him, he only ever had a handful of lovers, and never ones he’d chased. They always came to him, and half of the few he’d had left easily again with new notoriety. 

“Because skating was all he’d ever known, Victor didn’t know what to do with a life beyond the sport. He’d call me at night, asking me what he should do. But there was always another message hidden in the words, ‘Who am I? Who is Victor Nikiforov beyond the figure skater?””

Chris picked up a rock and chucked it in the direction of the water. 

“He never said it aloud to me, but Victor was depressed. He was buried beneath so many years of media smiles... so many expectations of others. but it was the only life he knew. He’d been doing it so long that he didn’t see an escape. Love was a transient thing. Audiences wanted Victor Nikiforov, the Living Legend. Lovers wanted Victor Nikiforov, the star. Sponsors wanted Victor Nikiforov, the man with a Midas touch. 

“He was scared, because who was Victor Nikiforov outside of skating? His impending retirement was more than the loss of competition, I mean we all expect to skate exhibitions for years… But it symbolized the loss of the man Victor had been for far longer than I’d known him.”

Chris turned and put his hands on Yuri’s shoulders. “He was so happy to have met you. For the first time he saw a way out. He was thinking of going to Four Continents to see you skate. He wanted to see what you were capable of. You asked him to be your coach, and for the first time there was a path through the darkness.”

“Chris…” Yuri sighed. “I’m none of that. I’m just me.”

“Exactly Yuri,” Chris said. “You’re just you. There’s no fake media smile. You’re adorable and prone to nerves. You work hard and everybody around you knows it. Your love of the ice shines in every movement. You’re genuine in a way I don’t think he’d seen in a while, and when you asked, drunk but oh so determined, he saw a person who was able to cut through all the garbage and see Victor Nikiforov for who he is inside. I’m pretty sure he fell in love with you right then and there.”

“Me?” Yuri squeaked. 

Chris nodded. “You.”

Phantom arms slid down Yuri’s front and a face nuzzled into his neck. 

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

* * *

Phichit followed Yuri into his hotel room and sat on the edge of the bed. Yuri moved around and flopped behind him. Phichit chuckled, turned and laid down.

“Feeling better?”

Yuri turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you were so stressed a couple hours ago you knocked a perfectly good cup of tea out of my hand.”

Yuri cringed. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok. It’s worth the loss of the tea to know that something was eating at you, you always did keep things private.”

Yuri smiled. “I really am going crazy though Phichit. Some days I wonder if I should check myself into a hospital with a therapist.”

Phichit sat up, “So tell me what’s going on.”

“You won’t think I’m crazy?”

“No promises, but I’ll listen. And If I do think you’re crazy I’ll keep it between us.”

Yuri scooted over to hug Phichit around the waist. 

Phichit ran his hand through Yuri’s hair. “So you going to tell me about it?”

“Trying to decide where to start.”

“How about the beginning?”

Yuri laughed, then sighed. He pushed himself off the bed and walked over to his laptop. He went into his empty ice folder, then to another folder with the glitches. He set the folder to display oldest to newest, opened a photo viewer, then sat Phichit down in the chair.

“Ok…” Phichit said. “Photos… photos are good.”

Yuri pointed to the flare in the Tokyo rink. “That’s the first one.”

“This lens flare? Isn’t it just reflecting off dust?”

“That’s what I thought too. Keep going.”

Yurio touching down after the flip, right before he fell. “It’s bigger…”

“Just keep going.”

The flare increased in size through photos of Turin and Bern. 

“I see why you bought a new camera.”

“It gets worse.”

Phichit flipped through photos from Fukuoka, Saint Petersburg, Los Angeles, and London, Canada.

Phichit flipped back to LA, then forward to London. “Are you missing some? There’s none from Milwaukee.”

“There were none in Milwaukee.”

Phichit turned. “None? Are you sure? They look pretty common.”

Yuri nodded. “None. I didn’t have any empty ice photos there, because Victor never competed there. And nothing in any of the competition photos.”

Phichit made a noise and bit his lip as he turned back to the computer. 

“Quebec City,” Yuri narrated. 

“Woah! Trippy! It looks like hair” 

“Yurio said the same thing when he saw that,” Yuri said. “Those are from Calgary, Worlds two thousand six.”

Phichit browsed through several photos. 

“I bought my new camera before Skate Canada because I couldn’t take the chance of losing a sale to that.”

“When you said your camera was glitching I had no idea it was like this!”

“There’s more, but get through the photos first…”

Phichit moved through photos from Vancouver, Shanghai, and Beijing.

“Yuri, why did you keep using the glitchy camera?”

“I don’t know, I just knew I had to. I told myself at the time it was for consistency for the book. There are plenty of clean photos too, and since there is no action it wasn’t as sensitive as the competition photos.”

The strands became blurs as Phichit proceeded through photos of Paris, Lyon, Nice and Bordeaux. One of the ones of Chris had the blur over the other man’s shoulder.

“This is so weird Yuri. But I don’t see Victor in them.”

“Moscow is next.”

Yuri watched Phichit’s eyes grow wide as the blur grew arms and legs. 

“Holy shit! You weren’t kidding!”

“See the long hair?”

Phichit nodded. 

“Watch what happens when you get to Barcelona.”

Phichit held his breath as he clicked through the last set of photos. 

“Well?” Yuri asked when the viewer started over. 

“You’re definitely not seeing things. Those flares turned into a person.”

“But is it Victor?”

Phichit bit his lip. “I.. I don’t know. The long hair that got shorter indicates it, but… it’s still too blurry.”

Yuri sighed and nodded. “So I might be crazy, I might not be…”

“You said there was more than the photos though.”

Yuri took a deep breath. “I… It…. Over the summer…”

“Stop Yuri. Think about what you want to say.”

Yuri breathed for a minute, eyes closed, composing his thoughts. “This may or may not be the right term, but… I’m… being haunted.”

Phichit nodded slowly. “Ok… say that again.”

Yuri opened his eyes. “I’m being haunted Phichit.”

Phichit ran a hand over his hair. “Why do you say you’re being haunted?”

Yuri licked his lips. “It… it started over the summer. At first I was just dreaming about him… Victor. I thought it was just part of my coping.”

“Ok…”

“Then… I started hearing a voice, calling my name. I thought it was my imagination…”

“But…”

Yuri chewed his bottom lip. “It started with whispers of air across my skin, drafts that I couldn’t explain. The dreams became more frequent, as did the voice. Then… then the touches started.”

“Touches?”

“Hands, sometimes a hug,” Yuri blushed. “Kisses… There was nobody there Phichit but I could  _ feel _ everything.”

Yuri paused. “I… I call it Victor because it came to me as Victor during the dreams. But I don’t know… I don’t even know if it’s really a spirit, or just a manifestation of my insanity.”

Yuri paused, leaned over the computer, and opened the photo he’d been looking at before Phichit got him for dinner. 

“Yuri?”

“This was today.”

Phichit looked and nodded at the silver blur. “Ok?”

“It wasn’t on the old camera.”

“This is the new camera, the non-glitchy one?”

Yuri nodded. “Phichit, I thought I could just keep thinking that it was a glitch, that it was all in my head. But there should be no reason for that silver form to be on this photo. The memory card never touched the old camera, and if it were a virus I would think the virus scanners on the computer would have caught it.”

Phichit rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You say there’s a presence you call Victor?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Is it here now?”

Yuri nodded. “It… he’s been giving me space with you here. But I sense him over by the bed.”

Phichit nodded, stood and made his way to Yuri’s camera bag. 

“Phichit? What are you doing?”

“You’re not the only one here who knows his way around a DSLR. Is there anything that’s consistent? Lens, f-stop, shutter speed?”

“No.”

“So I can choose at random and have as much chance of photographing this thing as you?” 

“I… guess?” Yuri mumbled. “I really don’t know how all this works.”

Phichit rummaged a second, then stood with Yuri’s camera in his hand. Yuri recognized the lens as one good for the situation, and a small flash on top. 

“The bed?”

Yuri nodded, and Phichit snapped several photos of the bed area. 

“Ok, let’s try a few things. Victor, if you’re here and can hear me, go stand behind Yuri.”

Yuri gaped as Phichit took several photos of him. 

“Ok, if you’re here, and can understand and are behind Yuri, raise your arms in a Y shape like you’re celebrating.”

“Phichit…” Yuri sighed, even as he felt Victor’s presence behind him, amusement coursing through him. 

“Just humor me Yuri. It doesn’t prove a thing either way if I get nothing. It means it might be something only you can do, or it might need to be in a rink. But it’s worth a try.”

Yuri sighed as Phichit took several more photos, occasionally giving Victor orders. 

“Ok,” Phichit finally declared. “Let’s see if I got anything.”

Yuri chewed his lip, nervous, as he accepted the memory card and put it into his computer. He opened the folder, waited for his computer to convert the raw images to jpg, closed his eyes, then clicked the first one open.

“Wow…” Phichit said. 

“What?”

“Open your eyes.”

The first photo showed a human shape on the bed. It flickered in and out over several photos, then the center of the frame showed Yuri. The silver shape had moved behind him. 

“Ok,” Phichit breathed. “Two down, it’s about here I started giving ridiculous orders.”

Several photos with nothing, then one of Victor's arms up and in a Y shape. 

“Yuri… There’s definitely something there, and it understood me.”

He flicked through the rest of the photos, Victor doing exactly what was asked each time. 

Phichit stood and took a deep breath. “Ok… I was worried that I wouldn’t get anything. But this…” he paused. “Can I do more tests?”

Yuri bit his lip, then nodded. “I feel him getting weaker. I think this is hard, so… only a bit more?”

“Ok, let me think of what I want to do.” Phichit replied as he accepted the memory card. 

Phichit nodded after a moment of thought. He raised the camera and said something in Thai. “Victor, pị nxn”

Yuri started laughing. “I missed that, you complaining at the end of a long day.”

Phichit smiled, took several photos of Yuri, quickly switched to the bed then back. 

Yuri smiled. “I can already tell you that he didn’t move. I don’t think Victor knows Thai.”

“But you do,” Phichit countered. “I mumbled at you to go to sleep so many times I know you know that phrase. If he didn’t move toward the bed then it could be a sign that it’s not a manifestation caused by you.”

Yuri hummed. “Maybe, but I think the only way to know is to get me out of the picture. Either make it so I don’t know what you’re asking, or get me out of the room entirely.”

“Got your noise canceling headphones?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Good. If you can’t hear or see my instructions, but he does them anyway that’s pretty conclusive isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

“Good. I’m going to grab your tie to blindfold you. You get your headphones ready.”

“Ok.”

A few minutes later Yuri was blindfolded and listening to his relaxation music. A part of him was desperate to know what Phichit was doing, but at the same time he understood that it was a test. 

He felt amusement and relief through Victor. Then the tie was removed and Phichit tapped Yuri’s shoulder to let him know it was ok to remove the headphones. 

Phichit handed Yuri the memory card. “Let’s see what he said.”

“Said?”

“Well, I took the opportunity to ask a few questions.”

“Phichit!”

Phichit laughed. “Ok, the first question was whether he was a spirit or a manifestation from you.”

“Ok?”

Phichi clicked through until the silver form stood behind Yuri. “And the answer is… Spirit!”

“How can you tell?”

“Two arms up.”

“Oh.”

“It seemed simple questions that could be answered like that was the best. Two options.”

“Second question,” Phichit said when his own hand was in front of the lens. “Was he with you before last year?”

Yuri watched the photos until another one showed up. 

“No.”

“Question three, were you a random choice, or were you specifically chosen?”

Yuri’s breath caught in his throat as he waited for the answer. 

“You. So something about you in particular caught his attention.” A pause. “Question four: are you Victor Nikiforov?”

“Phichit!”

“What? You’re in love with him, he supposedly fell in love with you and was thinking of you. You’re going around photographing old venues where he skated. It’s a legit question.”

Yuri sighed. 

“And the answer is…” Phichit made drumroll noises on the desk with his fingers. “Yes. He claims to be Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuri gasped, and looked over to where he sensed Victor. 

“Last question,” Phichit declared, a note of humor in his voice. “Have you two had sex?”

“Phichit!”

Phichit laughed. “I know you’d never tell me, but you blushed so hard when you mentioned kisses I had to know. And it looks like the answer is… Yes!” Phichit cheered. “Go Yuri! You totally had sex with ghost Victor.”

“Victor!” Yuri whined. 

“Come on Yuri,” Phichit said. “How many people can say they’ve had sex with a ghost, let alone a ghost Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuri sighed. “And on that note, I think we’re done for the night.”

Phichit turned serious and hugged Yuri. “Yuri… You’re not crazy. I can see the photos, and given what just happened… Yuri. It might not be Victor, there’s not a real way to know that for sure. But it’s not a manifestation of your creation. I don’t know if this makes things easier or harder on you, but… Yuri… if you’re crazy, then so am I. So take solace in that.”

Yuri smiled and hugged his friend in return. “Thanks Phichit.”

Phichit stepped back. “I know I’ve said it before, but stop trying to do everything yourself. You can ask others for help.”

Yuri chuckled. “You know me…”

Phichit sighed. “I do… but in the future, talk to me before you reach the breaking point.”

“I’ll try Phichit. Good night.”

“Good night Yuri,” Phichit replied as he hugged him once more then strode to the door. 

“Oh, and Phichit?”

“Yes?”

“For now, this stays between us? I don’t really know how to explain this, and I need to figure out what I’m going to do.”

Phichit nodded. “Of course.”

Yuri collapsed in the chair once his friend was out of his room. Immediately he felt Victor at his back, hands on his chest and lips against the top of his head. 

“Victor… I… I’m sorry,” Yuri said softly. “I… I thought I was going insane. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Victor tilted Yuri’s chin up and kissed him deeply, passionately. 

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

Yuri reached out, grasping open air, wanting to embrace the other man. Fingers entwined with his own. 

“You really chose me?”

Victor kissed and nodded into Yuri’s neck. 

“Why me? I don’t know how to help you.”

A hand right over Yuri’s heart, then more kisses, slow and gentle and full of love.

Yuri melted under the touch, moaning and allowing himself to chase the pleasure of being with Victor.  

“Make love to me,” Yuri asked for the second time in as many days when they separated. 

Hands against his, guiding him to stand, then wrapping around his middle. Lips against his throat and collarbone, while hips ground against him. 

“I wish I could touch you back,” Yuri whimpered, leaning into the pleasure. 

Victor nodded into his neck. 

“I’m sorry I can’t.”

Victor kissed him. 

Yuri removed his clothes as Victor guided him to the bed, the kiss never breaking. Then he was on his back, scooting up the mattress, VIctor’s presence above him, touching and driving Yuri insane with need. 

“Victor…”

Victor worked Yuri open slowly, kissing him throughout, until Yuri was moaning and writhing. 

Then he was inside, thrusting with long languid strokes. Rolling his hips in a way that would prolong the experience and connection for as long as possible. They rocked together, Victor doing enough touching for both of them as he ran his hands up and down Yuri’s body and dropped kisses anywhere he could reach. 

Yuri’s orgasm built slowly, overtaking him like a tide rather than a tsunami, and once it washed over him seemed to last far longer than he’d ever thought possible. Victor kept moving through it, keeping Yuri drowned in bliss. 

Victor was still as the orgasm receded, kissing Yuri, but still connected. 

Yuri took a shuddering breath. “Wow…”

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

Victor pulled out and curled up against Yuri, head on his shoulder. Fingertips up and down Yuri’s chest. 

Yuri’s lip began to tremble, then tears cascaded down his cheek. Concern filled him as Victor tried to wipe away the tears. 

“It’s ok,” Yuri half-laughed, half-sobbed. “I’m just overwhelmed. I can’t believe you chose me. I’m scared, because I don’t know how to help you, but I’m happy because you’re here.”

Kisses on his cheek, until he was laughing. 

Yuri moved carefully as he stood to grab a handful of tissues to clean himself up. He felt Victor’s arms around him as soon as he slid back into bed, his face nuzzled into the back of his neck. 

“I think you might already know this…” Yuri said softly. “But I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

“ _ Yuri _ …”

* * *

Yuri felt Victor’s constant presence during the junior performances, but it got stronger after the opening ceremony. Russia had a couple of pairs who had made the final, and Yuri felt the elation when they performed well.

But the excitement when the men took the ice for their warmup almost overwhelmed him. Yuri couldn’t tell if it was from seeing Yurio doing so well, or just general excitement for the sport that had dominated the other man’s life. 

Yuri had to force Victor’s excitement aside to focus on his own work. 

At the same time he chewed his lip. He watched as Chris and Phichit warmed up, his eyes tracked Yurio around the ice. 

His mind wandered to lighting candles the night before. He remembered the anguish that overtook the figure skating community when news of the accident broke. 

Yuri looked around the stadium, and chewed his lip until Victor patted his pocket. He absentmindedly applied lip balm, and felt confusion. 

Yuri shook his head. 

Morooka looked over at Yuri, but said nothing. Yuri smiled and moved to an emptier section of the media row where he knew he could get some good shots. 

Michele was on the ice, an unsettled look on his face. Yuri immediately wondered if somebody had been harassing Sara. 

Then he started skating, and Yuri realized that he’d never seen the depth of emotion from the other man before. Pure love poured from his every movement, and the audience erupted as soon as he finished. 

Then Phichit was on the ice, and Yuri checked his camera bag for the hamster plush he’d stuffed in it that morning. The Thai man was radiant, uninhibited as he showcased the talent of his homeland. 

Yuri whooped and hollered when Phichit finished, to the annoyance of a couple of the nearby photographers, and tossed the plush to the ice. He then made his way rinkside as Phichit took a bow. 

He had to see Yurio off, the teen had asked that morning after practice. 

Yuri made it to the barrier just as the girls carrying plushes and flowers came off, Yurio waiting nearby to go on. 

“You made it Katsudon!” Yurio cheered. “I was getting worried.”

Yuri smiled and hugged the teen. “I knew exactly how long it would take me. Are you ready?”

Yurio nodded. 

“Good. I’ll be right here. I even got special permission to photograph from here so I’ll be able to meet you when you come off the ice.”

“I’ll show the world what the protege of two world champions can do.”

Yuri nodded. 

Immense pride filled Yuri as Yurio skated to center ice. 

“Thanks for being here Katsuki,” Yakov said as they waited for the music to start. “It means a lot to him.”

“His whole Japanese family is cheering for him.”

Yakov chuckled. “I don’t know how everybody there saw through his angry facade, but he left broken and in pain, and returned a young man who was determined to carve a bright future for himself. I was thinking of myself and how I needed the break when he left, but I think going there might have been the best thing for him to do.”

Yuri smiled, and the  [ music ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5RUsJOMK2ms) started. 

Yuri saw an immediate difference from all previous performances. The steps, heavy and mournful as he glided to the end of the rink in time for his step sequence, overwhelming hope as the higher register strings came in. The memory of a thousand lost days, then him alone again. 

Tears collected at the corners of Yuri’s eyes. It was the most emotional performance he’d ever seen from Yurio, and the cheering from the arena told him he wasn’t the only one brought to tears. 

Yuri hugged Yurio as soon as he came off the ice. “That was beautiful Yurio.”

Yakov and Lilia flanked Yurio in the kiss and cry, Yuri standing nearby

The crowd erupted into applause. Yuri squinted at the screen to make sure he was reading the score properly. 

Yurio had broken his record. 

Somebody, one of the rinkside press he believed, pushed Yuri toward the kiss and cry. Yurio held out his hands. 

“I did it Katsudon!”

Yuri hugged Yurio then moved behind him as reporters swarmed. “You did it Yurio.”

The moment ended, and Yuri rushed back to the media row, barely catching the beginning of Chris’s skate. 

Chris and Otabek both skated clean programs, but Yuri was surprised when JJ imploded. He felt bad for the other man, remembering himself the year prior. 

Then the short program was over. Yurio was in first, followed by Otabek, Chris, Phichit, Michele and JJ.

Yuri reviewed the raw images, selected the ones he thought were most likely to be picked up, and made his rounds to Morooka and the other reporters who bought from him. Then it was back to the hotel for color corrections and minor adjustments. 

Then the day was over, and Yuri had a few free minutes before he needed to go to bed. He showered, and sat on the window ledge, overlooking the city. 

“Victor…” he said to the empty room. “I… we… let’s end this.”

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://wherelivesthepornandgore.tumblr.com/post/166830190783/so-heres-my-nsfw-arts-for-the-victuri-big-bang) NSFW blog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Yes, I am evil, thanks for asking. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	13. Decision - Grand Prix Final 2015 - European Figure Skating Championship 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri now knows that Victor really is the spirit of Victor Nikiforov, but that leads to a new dilemma... how to restore the ghost of the comatose skater to his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

_ Let’s end this.  _ The words hung like a shroud over the room. 

Hurt, anger, desperation and panic all overwhelmed Yuri as Victor’s emotions rushed into him. He wrapped his fingers around the edge of the ledge to steady himself as he tried to untangle his own conflicted emotions from Victor’s.

He could feel Victor, pacing the room, could sense the need for explanation. 

“Victor…” he said softly, trying to get a handle on the situation. “Please… listen to me.”

Victor stopped pacing, but Yuri could still feel the seething anger. 

Yuri stood and walked over to where he could sense Victor, though the other man backed off. 

“Please, hear me out.”

Yuri held out his hands, and after a moment felt Victor’s fingers. 

“Victor… I want this. I want us. It’s what I’ve wanted since before I knew what love was. But…”

Yuri chewed his bottom lip. “I can’t keep you like this. Victor… I know you chose me, but I don’t know how to help you. And for me to keep you as you are only prolongs your suffering.”

Refusal. 

“Yes it does!” Yuri squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to hold in his tears. “I love you, more than I could ever properly put into words, but you deserve a full and happy life. Are you really happy like this?”

“ _ Yuri… _ ” 

Yuri felt the peace that accompanied his name. He shook his head. 

“Victor, right now you think you’re happy. But how long will it last? You can touch me, but I have no idea how hard it is for you. I can’t touch or see you at all. Don’t you want for yourself?”

Hesitation. 

“Victor…” Yuri started. “Every day with me is another day that your real body gets weaker, every minute makes it that much harder for you to return to a normal life. You have to go back.”

Arms, tight around Yuri, a sense of overwhelming confidence. 

“You think I can help you?”

Victor nodded against his neck. 

“But I don’t know how!”

Yuri sank to his knees and clawed at his hair. “Victor, you need to go. You need to find somebody who knows what to do. I need to give you up so that you can live.”

Refusal.

“Why?” Yuri begged. “Why me? Why do you think I can help?”

“ _ Yuri _ …” A hand over his heart and a sense of love. 

“Because you love me?”

Victor nodded against him. 

“But what if love isn’t enough. I can’t hold you back. We have no idea how long you can exist like this, every minute counts. You need to leave me for somebody who can help you now!”

Refusal.

“Please,” Yuri begged, tears streaming down his face. 

Refusal. 

“I can’t lose you again!” 

Hesitation. 

“Victor, I absolutely shattered when I heard about the accident. My world collapsed around me. It was by honoring you that I was able to come back from the brink. But… we don’t know how long a soul can exist apart from a body. You could have years, or days. It might not have a limit at all. There’s no way of knowing. But if I lost you now, knowing what I do... VIctor… I don’t know if I could come back from that. Knowing I held onto you for my own selfish desires, when setting you free to find a way back could grant you a future.

“I love you with all my heart, and that’s why you have to go. You can come back, as your full you. I could never refuse you. But I can’t steal your chance to be whole again.”

Refusal mixed with trust. 

“Why?” Yuri begged. “Why? Why me? Why do you trust so much? What do I have that makes you think I’ll be able to help you?”

A hand on his heart again. “ _ Yuri… _ ”

Yuri whined and clawed at his hair. “Please.”

Refusal. 

“I don’t want to fail you!”

Kisses on his hair, a hand over his heart. 

“Surely somebody else is better. Yakov… or Yurio… maybe Mila. I barely knew you. I’ll miss clues that they wouldn’t.”

Victor embraced him. “ _ Yuri… _ ”

Yuri sobbed, everything he could feel from Victor indicated a refusal to leave, that he trusted him to reconnect the pieces. 

“I can’t lose you…” Yuri repeated, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head on them. “Please… please. There must be somebody who can help you now.”

VIctor’s arms tight around him. “ _ Yuri… _ ”

* * *

Yuri argued with Victor until well into the morning hours, however the other man was adamant.

Yuri finally managed a single concession. If Victor felt himself in danger and Yuri wasn’t close to finding an answer, he would leave and find assistance elsewhere. 

Even then Yuri hardly slept, tossing and turning. 

“I’m scared Victor,” he whispered for what he estimated to be the hundredth time that night. 

VIctor embraced him and kissed his forehead. 

Yuri eventually managed a sort of fitful sleep, but all too soon his alarm blared through the room. He got up and showered, but almost fell asleep again under the warm spray. 

Yuri ordered an extra-strong coffee from the hotel’s coffeeshop before walking to the convention center for his practice with Cao Bin. 

Even as he pulled on his skates he knew better than to attempt any jumps. Instead he focused on his step sequence and spins before finally leaving the ice early to prep for his photography work. 

The junior ice dancers were preparing for their practice when Yuri shuffled back to the rink. He climbed the steps to the media row and set his stuff down so that he could find out if Morooka needed anything in particular. 

Instead the reporter took one look at Yuri and pointed at the exit. “You. Back to the hotel to sleep. I’ll buy practice photos from somebody else today.”

“What? Wait… I…”

“No arguments,” Morooka frowned. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re dead on your feet. I recognize that look though, I saw it too many times when you were still a skater. You didn’t sleep at all last night. 

“I can afford to get practice photos from somebody else, but I need you on your game tonight. Japan has two ladies and a pair. You been to the other events in the series and you know their routines. So go back to the hotel now, sleep it off, and come back for the competitions this afternoon.”

Yuri was too tired to put up an argument. “Hai.” He turned and started putting his gear back into his bag. He was several steps down toward the exit when Morooka spoke again. 

“Katsuki,” Morooka called. 

Yuri turned to look at the reporter. 

“This business will eat you alive if you let it, especially as a freelancer. You don’t have a coach advocating for you anymore. You have to stand up for yourself and know when it’s too much. You can’t work when you can’t focus. 

“There are times when there is leeway, and times there isn’t. Learn to choose your battles. Talk to me, and to the other reporters you sell to. Find out where we have flexibility and where we need your skill. That’s how you start. Once you know where we have room to let you do what you need, then you can ask when you do need to take the time.”

Yuri nodded. 

“Good. Now go sleep. Try to be back by three-thirty for junior dance, but I can deal if you need more time. I absolutely need you at your best for the senior competitions.”

Yuri nodded again and trudged out of the building. 

A few minutes later he was in his hotel room, pulling off his shirt and trousers until he collapsed onto the bed in only his boxers. He pulled the covers over himself, and immediately felt Victor’s weight on his chest. 

“It’s your fault you know,” Yuri said with a yawn. 

Confusion. 

Yuri closed his eyes and rolled onto his stomach so he was comfortable. “I love you so much…”

Arms wrapped around Yuri, and fingers trailed along his back until he fell asleep.

* * *

Victor wasn’t there when Yuri woke up.

Yuri sat up in a panic, used to being cuddled until he woke up. He cast about the room until he sensed the other man’s presence near his cameras. It was faint, but there. 

“Victor?”

Victor’s presence strengthened, as if he had been asleep himself or scattered. He immediately made his way to Yuri and kissed his forehead. 

“Did… did I wake you?”

Victor leaned in and shook his head into Yuri’s neck. 

“Do you sleep?”

Hesitation, then a yes, then a no. 

“Not sleep, but… rest?”

A nod. 

“Were you resting then?”

A nod.

“Near… the camera?”

Another nod. 

“The pictures have something to do with all of this… don’t they?”

Hesitation. 

“You don’t know?”

Victor nodded. 

Yuri bit his lip and remembered the times when Victor got stronger seemingly at random, after Turin, Vancouver, Moscow and other stadiums that he’d been at repeatedly or had hosted the biggest events. 

He looked at the time. He’d be a few minutes late, but he remembered Morooka’s words from that morning. 

He had to do it. 

Yuri turned on his computer and opened a web browser. He researched flights and a a hotel. 

It was the place he’d avoided since his journey had begun, but he knew he had to go back. It was the only way to know for sure. 

He changed his flight plan from Barcelona, and booked a hotel, then rushed to the stadium.

By the end of the night he was more sure than ever that he was on the right path. 

* * *

“Yurio!” Yuri called, jogging to catch up to the teen after practice.

Yurio smiled. “Hey Katsudon. Ready for me to break another of your records tonight?”

Yuri laughed. “It’s not going to be that easy you know.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” Yurio smirked, he then softened. “Where were you yesterday? I didn’t see you at practice.”

“I… I didn’t sleep well the night before, so Morooka sent be back to the hotel to get some rest. You saw me taking photos of Mila last night though, didn’t you?”

Yurio nodded. “It’s just, you seemed off after my skate.”

Yuri smiled. “Thanks for worrying Yurio.”

“Tch,” Yurio scoffed. “I wasn’t worried.”

Yuri smiled. “So… I have a favor to ask of you or Yakov.”

“What is it?”

Yuri chewed his lip. “I changed my flight. I’m going to Sochi after I leave here.”

“Sochi? Why?”

“I decided it made more sense to go on the way back to Japan than when I’m touring Europe in January. It’s the farthest east, and I’ll be flying past anyway. But…”

“But?”

“I need somebody who speaks Russian to find out when there’s a good time for me to visit the Iceberg Skating Palace. All I need is a few hours without practice or many people around. Before or after hours is fine, or on a maintenance day as long as the ice is good.”

Yurio nodded. “I think Yakov knows somebody over there. I ask him.”

“Thanks Yurio.”

Yurio smiled. “I need to go. Yakov has a couple of interviews scheduled, then he wants me to relax before tonight.”

Yuri nodded. “You’ll be great.”

Yurio nodded and wandered in the direction of the interview area. 

* * *

Excitement and melancholy mingled in the air as the men took to the ice for their warm-up. Yuri understood as he wandered behind and between press booths and heard the same phrase over and over.

“Who will succeed Victor Nikiforov?”

Some mused that Chris would finally get gold, others looked to Yurio and his training with both Victor and Yuri. The Canadian announcers predicted a comeback from JJ, and the Thai reporters just seemed excited for their country to be represented. 

Victor seemed excited, sticking close to Yuri, though occasionally he’d move over to the area the Russian reporters had set up in. 

Yuri settled into his chosen spot, close to the stairs so that he could rush rinkside for Yurio again. 

JJ started the night by proving the assumptions of Canadian reporters correct and setting a massive score immediately. Then Michele gave a heartfelt performance that left Yuri wondering simultaneously what had happened and if he was looking at a new Mickey Crispino.  

Phichit took the ice, and gave one of the best performances of his life. Yuri knew that against the higher number of quads in Yurio’s, Chris’s and JJ’s programs he probably wouldn’t make the podium, but he saw a bright future for his friend. 

Chris skated, then Otabek, and Yuri rushed down again.

Yurio looked nervous as he stood at the barrier, waiting for Otabek’s scores. 

“Katsudon!”

Yakov and Lilia moved aside and Yuri took their place. 

“You’ve got this Yurio. You’re Russia’s ice tiger. Remember, you’re the only competitor with a quad flip. Victor was one of the best all-around skaters ever, and was a master jumper. I was known for my step sequences and spins. You worked with both of us, you don’t have any weaknesses that you don’t give yourself.”

Yurio nodded and set a determined look on his face. Yuri reached over the barrier and hugged him. 

“Everybody at home in Hasetsu is cheering for you, they even said that Minami is there to watch. Your grandpa in Moscow is watching. Minako and Mari are in the stands. Your family knows you can do this.”

Yurio hugged him back. “Thanks Katsudon.”

Yuri felt overwhelming fondness from Victor as Yurio skated to center ice. 

The  [ music ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwMDL4tU-FE) started, and Yurio searched for something lost through his motions. For the first time Yuri saw that the teen had found it. Nostalgia, memories and love infused his every movement. When the step sequence started Yuri saw him branching out, coming from under his and Victor’s shadows to be a radiant creature all his own. 

Yurio was making his mark, declaring himself the next generation of figure skater to beat. It was a feat accomplished not through anger and pride, but through love and determination. 

Yurio fell to his knees crying as soon as the performance was over, and Yuri couldn’t blame him. He’d felt it as the teen skated, he’d finally started to properly recover.

Lilia insisted that Yuri sit with Yurio in the kiss and cry as one of his choreographers. The program was clean, and though JJ was the current leader everybody knew that the only way Yurio could lose was to be underscored on the performance components. 

The question wasn’t whether or not Yurio would win, but by how much. 

Yurio gripped Yuri’s hand as they waited for the score, then started crying again once it was announced. While he hadn’t broken Yuri’s record he’d still won by almost twenty points. 

Yuri hugged Yurio. “You did it Yurio. You made history. You set a new short program world record, and are the first man to ever win the Grand Prix Final during his senior debut year.”

Yurio hugged back. “Thanks for believing in me Katsudon.”

“It wasn’t just me. We all believed in you. Now go do your press and get ready for the medal ceremony.”

Yurio nodded and accompanied Lilia back to the tunnels. 

“Can I speak with you Katsuki?” Yakov said once the teen was out of sight. 

Yuri nodded. “Of course.”

Yakov guided Yuri aside to a quiet corner as crews started setting up for the medal ceremony. 

“I got you some time to photograph the ice in Sochi three days from now,” Yakov started, then handed Yuri a piece of paper. He glanced at it and saw it was in Cyrillic. “Hand that to the desk when you get there.”

“Thank you sir.”

Yakov sighed, then reached out and put a hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “I want to thank you Katsuki.”

Yuri blinked. “For what?”

Yakov smiled. “You’re too humble I swear.” He chuckled. “You and Okukawa gave Yura stunning programs, but the more I watch him the more I realize that what really made him a better skater this year was that he found something he needed in Japan. He found a support system beyond his grandfather and rinkmates. He found the love of an extended family. It’s been something he was missing, and I don’t even think he knew it.”

Yuri blushed. “You’re welcome sir. He’s a good kid, and it was an honor to work with him.”

Yakov squeezed Yuri’s shoulder. “Maybe you should consider choreography since it would work into your schedule if you focus on figure skating photography.”

Yuri smiled. “I’ll consider it.”

Yakov nodded. “Let me know what you decide. Lilia is itching to choreograph for Yura, but he’s determined that if you’re willing to create his programs he wants you first.”

“I’m honored sir.”

“One day Katsuki I swear. One day you’ll drop the sir for good. I almost had you trained when I was in Japan.”

Yuri laughed. “Still a sign of respect.”

Yakov smiled. “At least somebody respects me, none of my skaters do.”

“Of course they do, But I think they grow in that space between them pushing and you pushing back.”

“You may be right.” Yakov glanced toward the locker rooms. “I better catch up to Yura before the medal ceremony. I’ll see you tomorrow for the special exhibition.”

Yuri nodded. “I… I might jump it again…. For Victor…”

Yakov shook his head. “You’re insane. Don’t let that jump kill you.”

Yuri chuckled. “It hasn’t yet.”

“If we don’t get a chance to talk tomorrow, I hope you find what you’re looking for in Sochi.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Yuri took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could feel Victor around him. As the sixth place finisher he was the opening performance of the special exhibition.

“Lend me your strength today Victor,” he murmured as he waited for the music to start. “I’m skating this for you, though I choreographed it before I knew you were with me.”

The crowd erupted as the familiar opening notes of the  [ song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DNyKDI9pn0Q) started, a piece dedicated to lost love. 

It was Yuri’s dedication to himself, that he would overcome Victor’s loss. But he was skating not only the loss, but the future he hoped for, and the love of the man whose presence he could sense near the edge of the rink. 

_ My heart will go on Victor, I’m going to save you. _

Yuri lined up for the jump, and felt the overwhelming emotion from Victor as he landed the quad-quad combination. 

The audience roared, but Yuri wasn’t performing for them. He was performing for the man he loved. 

Yuri barely had a chance to acknowledge the applause as he finished. He had to run to the locker room and change so that he was ready to photograph the winners for the normal portion of the exhibition. He made it back just as Chris was taking the ice. 

The audience clapped along when Chris skated to another famous  [ song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGIjHeLUlY4) about loss. Yuri felt tears in his eyes, but didn’t know if they were his or Victor’s. The spirit was overcome with nostalgia as the Swiss man skated. 

Then the regular exhibition started, and Yuri was on the clock again, getting photos of the winners for the news agencies. 

Yuri’s jaw dropped when Yurio skated out in a magenta jacket, leather-look pants and sunglasses. It was a vastly different look than the teen’s previous exhibitions. 

“I guess you found what you were looking for,” he chuckled. 

He knew Yakov and Lilia would probably be livid, especially when he had Otabek pull a glove off with his teeth, but Yuri knew that Yurio had been looking for his own identity in the months after Victor’s accident. 

“You know who you are now kiddo. Now take the world by storm.”

* * *

Yuri held a glass of champagne between his fingers, though he’d not taken more than a couple sips.

A few ISU officials tried to scold him for performing the quad-quad combo, but he reminded them that it was an exhibition and not competition, and they relented. 

Sponsors and officials hovered around Yurio all night, and the teen seemed to relish the attention. But he found his way over to Yuri as soon as there was an opening for him to escape. 

“When are you headed to Sochi?”

Yuri smiled. “Tomorrow afternoon. Mari and Minako will be here until the day after and hope to spend a bit of time with you. But I need to take the photos there, then I’ve got a few days at home before I need to leave again.”

“Where are you going?”

“Different rinks around Japan, then Nationals. A bit of time at home, then to the US and Canada again for a few more Empty Ice photos, then a tour of Europe for the last batch of photos around the European Championships.”

“You’ll be there right?”

Yuri nodded. “Japan doesn’t usually send more than a token reporter, but I’ll be there.” 

Yurio smiled. “Good. I like knowing you’re there.”

Yuri laughed. “Don’t go soft on me kid.”

“Tch,” Yurio replied. “It just makes it all the better when I break your records.”

“There’s my Yurio.”

Yurio smiled, then turned serious. “Are you going to be ok Katsudon… going to Sochi I mean?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just. I learned from living with you how you associate different things. You’ve said repeatedly that last year was a missed opportunity, but I can tell when you’re holding back. It hurts to think about, doesn’t it?”

Yuri smiled softly. “It does. It will be hard, but I have to do this.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Yuri squeezed Yurio’s shoulder. “You’ve got enough on your plate. Nationals are coming up for you, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a trip to Moscow before that. You just set a world record and made history. With Russia being a big figure skating country I bet somebody will want to show you off.”

“God I hate those events,” Yurio muttered. “Smile and look pretty while some old and often overweight official parades me around like a prize. I’d rather listen to Georgi talk about Anya.”

Yuri was quiet for a moment before connecting it. “His… ex?”

“Da. Always about how she’ll realize that she was wrong and will want him back.”

“Geez.”

“Maybe I should come with you anyway,” Yurio said with a laugh. “An empty ice rink sounds better than a fancy dinner.”

Yuri smiled. “Don’t piss off the sponsors Yurio.”

“They’re just a bunch of people who want me to sell shit for them.”

Yuri sighed and guided Yurio toward a quieter section of the room. “Sponsors want to pay you to sell stuff for them, that’s right. But remember Yurio, you’re not going to skate forever. Sure you can do exhibitions for a while after you retire from competition, but you need a plan. Sponsor money now can help. Sometimes it’s a new pair of skates, sometimes it’s money to pay coaching fees. Spend some, but put as much as you can aside. Work with a public relations and management team. Think about your image. Take the sponsorships and the money. That’ll be your cushion.

“You’re still a few years out, but think about college. You’re a smart kid and I know you will do good.”

Yurio looked up at Yuri, then smirked. “Nice try Katsudon. I plan to skate forever.”

Yuri smiled. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

* * *

Yuri watched sunlight reflect off the Black Sea as the plane flew from his layover in Istanbul to Sochi. The water sparkled, but it did nothing to soothe his nerves.

He was going back, going back to the place where he’d failed. He was returning to the place where he’d turned his back on his idol, positive he’d performed so badly that the other man thought he was a fan and not a fellow competitor. 

Victor’s presence was near, but seemed to sense Yuri’s mood. He remained close, but didn’t push, allowing Yuri to sift through his own jumbled thoughts and emotions. 

Yuri’s fingers twitched, wanting to reach out for Victor, but the plane was crowded and he didn’t want to attract attention again. 

Victor’s fingers entwined between his and Yuri smiled. A kiss on his hair and Yuri closed his eyes in contentment. 

He didn’t know if his theory was true, but he had to find out. 

The plane landed in the coastal city about an hour later, and Yuri realized that he’d even fallen asleep. He yawned, stretched and grabbed his camera bag from the overhead bin. Mari and Minako had agreed to take his skating gear back to Japan, something he was grateful for as it was one less thing to track. 

After collecting his other luggage he caught a cab to the hotel closest to the Iceberg Skating Palace. He walked into a room that wasn’t the one he’d been in the year before, but looked almost identical. 

Yuri trudged in and sat on the edge of the bed. He sighed, remembering his failure the year before. 

Victor draped himself over Yuri’s shoulders and hugged him. Yuri reached absentmindedly for one of the hands and felt fingers thread through his own. 

“I’m sorry…”

Confusion. 

“Maybe if I’d woken up earlier… maybe if I hadn’t been so ashamed…”

More confusion. 

“You were probably long gone from the restaurant. It was almost noon by the time I woke up. Even if I had woken in time… I felt like such a failure. I was ashamed to show my face and the thought of talking to somebody I couldn’t remember meeting terrified me.”

Victor kissed Yuri’s hair. 

“Would things have been different had I gone down to meet you? Maybe… maybe you wouldn’t have been on that road… maybe…”

Anger, and Victor’s arms tight around him. Victor shook his head adamantly into Yuri’s neck. 

“I can’t help it,” Yuri sighed. “A part of me wants to blame myself, especially after everything I’ve learned.”

Victor knelt behind Yuri and tilted his head back. Yuri’s eyes fluttered shut as he was kissed. 

Victor moved and pushed Yuri back on the bed. He laid on top of him and kept kissing.  

“Victor…” Yuri murmured when they separated. 

Victor nuzzled into Yuri’s neck. “ _ Yuri… _ ”

Yuri opened his eyes and started crying. Victor immediately started kissing the tear trails and attempted to wipe them away. 

“I… I wish you were whole. I want to hold you. I want to kiss you properly.”

Victor kissed him again. 

“I don’t want to fail you.”

Victor ran his thumbs over Yuri’s cheeks and kissed his forehead. 

“I’m going to do everything I can. I promise.”

* * *

Yuri stared up at the gleaming glass and steel structure of the Iceberg Skating Palace. He sighed and steeled himself. The last time he’d been in that building he’d failed and missed his greatest opportunity to make his dream come true.

Victor embraced him from behind and nuzzled into his neck. “ _ Yuri… _ ”

Yuri closed his eyes. “It’s just hard, that’s all.”

Victor kissed his shoulder. 

“Victor?”

A nod.

“I… I’m sorry… for turning my back on you last year when you offered a commemorative photo. I had convinced myself that you thought I was a fan. I couldn’t believe that you’d see me as anything other than a failure.”

“ _ Yuri… _ ” Victor peppered kisses along Yuri’s shoulders. “ _ Yuri… _ ”

Yuri leaned into the touch as much as he could without losing his balance. “I’m not going to lie, this isn’t going to be easy for me. I was going to come here last. But… Victor… I think that you needed to come back here.”

Victor tightened his arms around Yuri’s waist. 

“Please, lend me your strength.”

VIctor nodded against Yuri’s shoulder, and Yuri took a deep breath before striding into the building. 

Yuri handed Yakov’s note to the person at the counter in the lobby. They read it, nodded then stepped away. 

Yuri blinked, and started to follow, but Victor held him back. 

Yuri stilled and waited until the woman returned with an older man. He held out his hand. “Dmitri Sokolov. You are who Yakov called about?” he asked in accented English. 

Yuri bowed then shook the proffered hand. “Yes sir. Katsuki Yuri.”

“That name is familiar.”

Yuri nodded. “I skated here last year for the Grand Prix Final.”

“Ah, that is why.”

“Most likely.”

“You want photos of empty rink?”

Yuri nodded again. “Yes sir. Did Coach Yakov explain what I’m doing?”

“He said book on Victor Nikiforov.”

Yuri smiled. “Yes. I’m recreating old photos, but of empty rinks. Since he won gold in the Olympics here early last year, and then again for the Grand Prix Final… It’s an important place. It’s… the last place he competed.”

Dmitri nodded slowly. “Da. I understand. Today is maintenance day. You can photograph, but we need two hours prepare.”

Yuri blinked. “Prepare?”

Dmitri nodded. “Come.”

Yuri followed to the main rink and saw that the ice was configured for speed skating. 

“Oh… umm…”

“That is why we need prepare. You rather not have track, yes?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Convert takes two hours. You can stay and watch, or get breakfast while wait. There is nice cafe nearby.”

Yuri smiled. “I had breakfast at the hotel. I can use the time finding the locations where I should shoot from though.”

Dmitri nodded. He pointed at an open door. “This my office. I have staff switch over, and tell them help if you need. If you have questions and they not speak English come get me.”

Yuri bowed. “Thank you sir.”

He chuckled. “Yakov said you polite young man. He was correct.”

Yuri smiled. 

“I get conversion started. I find you when is complete.”

Yuri thanked him, looked around and found a place to review the photos he wanted to recreate. 

He felt Victor’s excitement as he worked. The presence was stronger, even more than Yuri had hoped. 

“You have more energy in old rinks… don’t you?” Yuri asked under his breath. 

Victor hugged him tightly and nodded into his neck. 

“We leave a bit of ourselves in places of great importance, a piece of the soul that gives a location a life of its own.” Yuri said. “That was something my grandmother used to tell me. I wonder if there’s more truth to that than we know.”

Victor kissed Yuri’s neck, just behind his ear, making him shiver. 

“Not here Victor,” he said softly. 

Yuri felt Victor pouting, but also sensed understanding. 

By the time the crews had converted from the speed skating to the figure skating setup Yuri had mapped out most of the places he needed to photograph from. He’d located media row and the locations from bloggers and independent photographers. 

Victor flitted to and from the ice, and Yuri knew that he was reliving the memories of performing there. Yuri smiled as he set up, enjoying the excitement that filled him as Victor played. 

Dmitri told him that the ice was ready, and Yuri started taking photos. He started with media row, smiling during most of it. 

He’d asked Victor to lend him strength, instead the other man lent him joy. Instead of the pain of failure Yuri was awash in the love of performance, the desire to show oneself at their best. 

With each photo he felt Victor’s devotion to the sport, and his own determination to save him and see him again. 

He felt Victor moving on the ice, and ignored it for several minutes. Then something about the pattern felt familiar. 

Yuri stopped and allowed himself to just feel the other man’s movements. He couldn’t feel the footwork, but the position on the ice and the tempo were there. 

Yuri bit his lip and had to hold back his tears. 

Victor was skating his program, the one he’d performed so miserably the year before. 

“Victor…” he whispered. 

VIctor finished the routine, then returned to Yuri’s side and embraced him. 

“Is… is that your way of telling me that you watched me skate last year?”

Victor nodded into Yuri’s neck. 

“Victor…”

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

* * *

Yuri was openly crying by the time he finished looking through the photos from the Iceberg Skating Palace.

The details remained blurry, but the silver form had definitely coalesced into a representation of Victor Nikiforov. Hair swept over the forehead, and the physique was one Yuri would know at a glance. 

“Victor…” he sniffled, reaching out and touching the laptop screen. 

Victor nuzzled into his neck, kissing softly. 

“It’s been so hard this year…” Yuri murmured. “I’d watch you skate every competition. I’d stay up to insane hours to see a live stream. Watching you fueled my own performances.”

Yuri turned away from the screen, stood and walked to the window. He looked out at the Iceberg Skating Palace on the left, then his eyes swept right to gaze at the Black Sea. Victor walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around Yuri’s middle, resting his chin on Yuri’s shoulder. 

“I’ve been adrift. I didn’t know how to separate myself from skating, but I couldn’t compete any longer, not without you. I started the Empty Ice project as a way of connecting my feelings to your accident.”

Yuri paused. 

“I still don’t know what I’ll do. People like my photography, and it allows me to stay close to the sport. But there is still an ache in my chest every time I don’t see you there.”

Victor kissed Yuri’s ear. 

“I’m going to save you Victor. I still don’t know how, but now I do know that you get stronger when I photograph old venues. That was one of the reasons we came here so soon. I wanted to see if I was right.”

Victor moved to Yuri’s front and kissed him, fanning his fingertips across Yuri’s cheeks.  

“I need you Victor,” Yuri breathed as they separated. “I need you to believe in me, because I’m not always going to believe in myself. I know in a way you already do, because you’re here, but some days that won’t be enough.”

Victor kissed him again, fingers trailing down Yuri’s spine, making him moan and shiver with need. 

“Victor…” Yuri whined. 

Victor guided Yuri to the bed, kissing the entire way. Yuri fell back onto the mattress, and immediately felt Victor above him, pinning him down as he kissed and nibbled along Yuri’s jaw. 

Victor pressed his hips down against Yuri’s, and Yuri arched in response, seeking more friction. 

Then Victor’s hips were rolling against his, grinding down, and Yuri moved under him. 

“Victor… Victor…” Yuri chanted as the pleasure built within him. 

Victor was kissing him, his hand over Yuri’s heart. The sentiment was clear, even if he couldn’t say the words.  _ I love you. _

Yuri whined as he came, fingers curling into the bedspread. Victor kissed his jaw and neck as he continued to roll through Yuri’s orgasm, then they both stilled, kissing softly. 

Victor tangled his fingers in Yuri’s hair, keeping him where he wanted as he kissed Yuri breathless. 

Then one hand trailed down and rested over Yuri’s heart again. Another kiss. 

“I love you too…”

* * *

Makkachin knocked Yuri over in her exuberance to greet him, licking kisses onto his face.

“It’s good to see you too Makka,” he laughed, scratching behind her ears. 

She barked, her whole backside wagging with her tail. 

“She’s been waiting for you to get home,” Hiroko said with a chuckle as she passed by. “She’s slept on your bed every night.”

Yuri turned to the poodle. “You’re such a sweet girl Makka.”

Hiroko laughed. “Why don’t you take her out. I don’t think Mari’s had a chance yet.”

Yuri nodded. “Ok.”

Yuri took his bag up to his room, then saw his skate bag in the corner. “Victor… when you wake up, let’s choreograph an exhibition piece together.”

Yuri was filled with joy as Victor immediately agreed. 

Yuri walked over and grabbed the bag. “I guess I should start by learning one more jump. I always regretted not being able to land a quad loop. You had all five ratified quads, I should at least get to your level.”

Amusement. 

Yuri sat on the bed. “Victor… Mila said you wanted to coach me… is that true?”

Victor nodded into Yuri’s neck. 

“I… I do miss the sport. I don’t know how long before it’s too late to go back. But… if you wake up in time… would you be my coach? For one more season?”

Victor knocked Yuri back to the bed in his joyful acceptance, kissing him passionately. 

Yuri stood after a minute, laughing. He picked up his skate bag again. 

“Come on Makka,” he said as he pulled on his shoes. “We’re going to Ice Castle.”

* * *

Yuri sighed, leaned back and rubbed his eyes. Spread out in front of him were a series of travel itineraries that he needed to send to the publisher for approval. Travel fees were part of his advance, but he needed to be smart about it.

Yuri was officially on deadline. The editor wanted his photos before worlds so that the book could be put together and ready to launch at the start of the next figure skating season. It was already available for pre-order with a few early photos in the promotional copy.  

“You’ve skated a lot of places Victor,” he said to the room. 

Victor hugged him. 

Yuri sat back up and put the sheet for Japan on top. It was the easiest, and due first as he left in a few days. He’d leave for Nagoya, then Miyagi, Tokyo for more photos there, and finally onto Sapporo for both Empty Ice photos and Japanese Nationals. 

Yuri nodded. It was what he’d already proposed, he’d only moved the schedule up, leaving before nationals rather than going in reverse after, and the costs were essentially the same. 

He took a deep breath, and turned to the United States and Canada. 

Yuri opened a map on his computer. He was better with the locations there as he’d been to several. After a few minutes he’d decided on his route.

Yuri tapped a pencil on the desk. “I’ll probably be jet lagged.” He looked at flights. “Better to fly into Vancouver and not cross the border needlessly.”

He leaned back again and rubbed his eyes. “Maybe I should have tried to fit more in during the Grand Prix series. These west coast locations are so close to where I already was.”

Arms around his middle and Victor shook his head into Yuri’s neck. 

“Would it have been too much?”

Victor nodded. 

Yuri chuckled. “You’re probably right. But looking at it now it just feels like a wasted opportunity. And this Atlantic City stop…” he sat up and tapped the pencil next to the city’s name. “Ugh… I’ll be the area again in a few months for Worlds in Boston.”

Yuri sighed, sat up and examined his itinerary.

“Ok, fly into Vancouver. Take the ferry to Victoria, collapse from jet lag. Photos in the morning, then another ferry to Everett. Spend the night, photos in the morning, fly to Chicago that afternoon. Stay the night, photograph in Chicago, fly to Detroit in the afternoon again.”

Yuri hummed. “I could possibly get both Detroit and Windsor done in the same day, if I could work out schedules with the rinks. That would save on hotel fees. I wonder if Ciao Ciao has connections…”

Yuri sighed. “Then Mississauga, finish the US with Atlantic City, head back to Philadelphia and catch a flight to the UK.”

“Sounds like a packed schedule.”

Yuri started and turned to see Mari standing in the door. “Mari, when did you get here?”

“About the time you started talking about ferries. Why does it sound like you’re trying to photograph from one coast of North America to the other in under a week?”

“Because I am. My editor wants the photos before Worlds, and…” Yuri took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Four Continents is in Taipei. With it so close I thought it best to take a break from traveling after Europeans and clean up the photos then.” He put his glasses back on. 

Mari walked in and sat on his bed. Yuri turned to face her. 

“Just don’t burn yourself out again. Ok?” She paused. “You looked like death when you pushed yourself between Skate America and Skate Canada. Now you’re talking about  a week in the US and Canada, and another week or so running all over Europe. It just seems a lot.”

“Two weeks in Europe,” Yuri clarified. “I’ll be photographing the European Championships while I’m there.”

Mari sighed. “So how long will you be gone this time?”

“Three weeks? Maybe four? Yurio has asked me to spend a few days with him in Saint Petersburg since I’ll be in the area.”

“Where is close to Saint Petersburg?”

Yuri looked at his list. “Both Helsinki and Tallinn are close.”

Mari sighed again. “I’m just worried. I think you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

Yuri smiled. “I’ll be ok. I’m sleeping better now.”

“And yet you’re in here talking to yourself.”

Yuri blinked. “I was just thinking aloud.”

Mari studied him for a minute and let out a slow breath. “If you say so Yuri.” She paused and stood. “Kaasan and Tousan won’t say it, but I will. We’re worried about you. I don’t think you’ve really recovered. You leave for weeks at a time for this book and for competitions, come home exhausted and seem obsessed with these photos.”

She crossed her arms. “I understand you’re on a deadline now, so I won’t push. But… Yuri I want you to take a break after worlds. The photos will be to the publisher, competition season will be over and you probably won’t have any commissions lined up for that early in the year. You need to take some time for you, not for Victor, not for Morooka, not even for Yurio.”

“I’m fine Mari.”

“No, you’re not. But you don’t see it. Promise you’ll think about taking a break at least.”

Yuri smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

She nodded. “Go relax in the onsen. Your schedules and travel maps will be here when you get back.”

Yuri smiled and nodded. “That sounds like a nice idea. I think I’ll do that.”

Mari studied him for a few seconds longer before leaving the room. 

Yuri leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Maybe I am pushing myself too hard.”

Victor’s arms wrapped around Yuri’s shoulders again. 

“Just a bit more though…”

* * *

Yuri hummed softly and nestled deeper under the covers of the Sapporo hotel room. Victor’s presence was wrapped around him, gentle and caring, and he wanted to savor the feeling until he had to get up.

It was the first day of nationals, and Yuri knew he would be busy. Moorooka had already informed him he’d be buying more photos since it was a local competition, and another Japanese news station had indicated they’d be buying from him as well. He was also contracted to a couple of figure skating news websites. 

Victor kissed Yuri’s forehead, then his cheeks before starting with gentle kisses that quickly deepened. 

“Mmm,” Yuri hummed when they separated. “I could get used to that.”

Victor leaned in and nodded against Yuri’s forehead before he resumed kissing him. Soon the kisses were hot and desperate between them, and Yuri’s back arched when he felt Victor’s fingers brush the length of his cock. 

“Ngh, Victor,” Yuri gasped. 

Victor pulled back slightly, waiting. 

“Don’t stop.”

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

They kissed and Victor’s fingers wrapped around Yuri’s cock. Their pace was unhurried as tongues danced and played between their mouths and Victor stroked Yuri in long smooth motions. 

Yuri’s orgasm washed over him to the same rhythm of everything else that morning, and seemed to last forever. He called Victor’s name as his toes curled. Then it was just them again, kissing and coming down from the pleasure. 

“One day I’m going to get to make you feel that good, right?” Yuri asked softly of the room. 

Victor nodded into his shoulder, but Yuri could feel the edge of exhaustion in the other man’s presence. 

* * *

“Minami-kun!”

Yuri jogged to catch up to the teen. 

Minami smiled and bowed politely. “Konichi wa Katsuki-san.”

Yuri returned the bow. “Konichi wa Minami-kun. How are you today?”

Minami smiled. “Excited. I can’t wait to see how everybody does today.”

Yuri smiled and reached into his pocket. “From Yurio,” he said, holding out a small token. 

“Yuri-kun?” Minami blinked. 

“He said it’s a good luck charm. Something about needing his partner in crime against JJ at worlds.”

Minami smiled and accepted the good luck charm. “You’ll see him at Europeans, yes?”

Yuri nodded. 

Minami grinned. “I’ll stop by a shrine and get an omamori for him.”

Yuri laughed. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the thought.”

“Do you know why he gave this to me though? I mean, we were on good terms in Canada but I thought it was a temporary thing.”

Yuri hummed. “I think… he’s discovering the value of friendship. He was close to Otabek Altin from Kazakhstan in Barcelona.”

Minami grinned. “I hope so! He always seemed so lonely in juniors, but snapped when people tried to talk to him too.”

“I think we’re seeing a different side of him now.”

Minami nodded. “I need to get ready. Thanks Katsuki-san!”

Yuri bowed and watched the teen jog off to join his coach. 

* * *

“Are you nervous?” Yuri asked as Minami fidgeted next to him in the airport.

Minami smiled. “Of course! But I’m excited too.”

Yuri grinned. “It’s not going to be easy with only one quad. But don’t let that hold you back either.”

Minami nodded. “Four Continents and Worlds, my debut senior year…”

Yuri laughed. “They consider you an up-and-coming star for a reason. You’re good Minami. With a couple more quads and some experience you’ll be great.”

“You think so?”

Yuri nodded. “Use this opportunity. Between Kozuka and I we managed the threshold to get three men’s skaters for Japan in both events, but with him not qualifying and my retirement it will be difficult to maintain that. Take this time to study your competition and think about your upcoming seasons. Aim for top fifteen. If Japan has two skaters that combine to twenty-eight or lower then at least we’ll get two spots next year. I think that’s entirely manageable.”

Minami smiled. “I think I can do that.”

Yuri looked out the windows as a plane rolled up to the boarding ramp. “I know you can. You took silver and keep beating your personal best scores every time you take the ice. Yurio may not see you as a threat yet, but he will soon enough.”

Minami laughed. “I think as long as we’re teaming up against JJ it’ll be ok.”

“I hope you two become good friends on and off the ice. It helps to have a friendly face in the crowd. Somebody who believes in you even when you’re competing for the same medals. That’s something I learned far too late.” Yuri bit his lip. 

“Katsuki-san?”

Yuri shook his head as Victor wrapped his arms around his shoulders and kissed his neck. “Sorry, I was just thinking of my friend Phichit Chulanont, from Thailand.” Yuri bit his lip again. “He was my first real friend in figure skating. I wouldn’t trade what we have for the world, but I look back and see a lot of missed opportunity. It’s a cold sport, so take the warmth when you find it.”

Minami nodded slowly. “I think I understand.”

“Good!” Yuri grinned. “Now how about some tea while we wait for the flight attendants to clear the plane? My treat.”

“Sure!”

* * *

Mari watched Yuri from the door as he packed the last few things in his suitcase, arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

“I don’t like that you’re going to be gone so long.”

Yuri looked up and sighed, they’d had the fight before and both were tired of it but both too stubborn to relent. “I have to have the photos in by worlds. So I have to do what I can to get everything done.”

“And last time you were gone for less time than this you came back exhausted and so pale we all thought you were sick.”

“I was away for five years, I know how to take care of myself.”

“Look Yuri. That was before…” she waved at the lone poster of Victor on the wall. “This is now, and you haven’t recovered. Everybody knows it except you.”

Yuri stood. “I’m going to miss my flight if we keep fighting Nee-san.”

“Come on Yuri. Go early before worlds. You’ll be in Boston anyway, why make two trips?”

Yuri took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Victor wrapped his arms around his middle in an effort to calm him. 

“Because it’s not just taking a photo. I have to edit them and clean them up. I’d rather bring them back and do that here after Four Continents than rush.”

“It’s too much, going straight from the US to Europe and tossing a competition in there too. Your itinerary only has you staying in each city one night. When will you rest? You know you get terrible jet lag.”

Yuri sighed, walked over and hugged Mari. She stiffened at first then relaxed. 

“I’ll be fine Mari-neesan. I promise, I’ll come home if I get exhausted again.”

She sighed. “I’m not talking you out of this, am I?”

Yuri stepped back. “No.”

She stood and took a step from the room. “Make sure to say goodbye to Makka. This will be the longest since she got here.”

Yuri nodded. “Of course. And you know I’ll come back if she has any problems.”

Mari nodded. “Have a safe trip.”

Yuri smiled. “I will.”

Mari walked down the hall, shaking her head. 

“Are you ready?” Yuri asked softly as Victor kissed his neck. 

* * *

“Yuri!”

Yuri smiled and weaved between tables before sitting across from Celestino. “Hi coach. How are you?”

Celestino signalled a waiter and waited while Yuri placed a drink order. “Busy, as usual. You know this time of year.”

Yuri nodded. “Phichit’s still in Bangkok?”

Celestino nodded. “Yes, but he’ll move back here after worlds. The media and government pressure seems to be easing now that it’s looking like he’ll be strong for several years. It’s time for him to be under more consistent coaching again, rather than me flying back and forth. He’s entering a growth stage, and I think we can get him a second quad before the Olympics. I’d like to see him place well there.”

Yuri smiled. “Just imagine how excited the Thai government will be about that.”

Celestino laughed. “I’d never get that boy back. He’d be in constant press and government functions.”

“And he’d love every minute.”

“He’s one I never have to push to do press.”

Yuri chuckled and took a sip of his drink. “Thanks for setting up those empty ice times for me here and in Windsor.”

“You’re welcome. But why do I get the feeling that this dinner is about more than that?”

Yuri chewed his lip. “I… I know you said you left the banquet in Sochi to get drinks with coaches Karpisek and Feltsman, but... I know rumors get around. I… what have you heard since?”

Celestino sighed and took a long sip of his drink. “I heard about a stripper pole, and you winning several dance battles.”

Yuri nodded. “I’ve… seen the photos.”

“I heard something else too.”

Yuri cringed. 

“I take it you know what?”

Yuri nodded. “Apparently… I asked Victor to be my coach.”

Celestino leaned forward and let out a long breath. “I’m not mad Yuri.”

Yuri looked up. 

“You had hit a wall,” Celestino explained. “I know the signs. I’ve been a coach too long. You saw your idol within a year or two of retiring. He had the skills you needed, and had always inspired you. He was a logical choice if you were considering leaving, though I wish you’d have talked to me about it before drunkenly asking him.”

“Sorry coach.”

“Don’t be. But why bring it up now?”

Yuri chewed his lip again. “In Barcelona… Mila Babicheva and Yuri Plisetsky both told me that he was seriously considering it. And I miss it…”

“What are you saying Yuri?”

“If I can still compete when he wakes up… and if he’s still interested… I…”

“You’re asking my permission to go back to the ice under a new coach?”

Yuri nodded. 

“Yuri. Nothing would make me happier than to see you skating again, even if it is under somebody else. You left too soon. Even without that insane combination you have the talent and ability to be at the top of the podium. As far as I’m concerned, you’re Nikiforov’s rightful successor, not Plisetsky.”

Yuri smiled. “Yurio’s a good kid, and he works hard.”

“I’m sure he is and he does. But his time will come. You, Giacometti, Crispino… you’re all at the age where you have both the experience and skill… and the drive. Time is not on your side so it makes those wins all the sweeter.”

“I think Chris is feeling his age.”

Celestino nodded. “I’m not surprised with that massive quad lutz of his. It’s a hard jump, and you should know better than anybody how the hard jumps take a toll.”

Yuri chuckled. “I’m probably the only person who asked for a ban on a jump.”

“I still think you were insane for trying it in the first place. It’s a good thing they banned it.”

Yuri nodded. “After working with Yurio, and talking to Chris, I agree. It’s a high bar and people would get hurt trying.”

Food was delivered and they took several bites in silence. 

“I’m glad to hear you talk about coming back,” Celestino said. “Even if it’s tied to the condition of Nikiforov waking up and wanting to be your coach. I just hope that you consider even without him.”

Yuri smiled. “Probably not, but thanks for pushing even now.”

* * *

Yuri chewed his lip and looked out at the Atlantic. The water sparkled in the dawn light.

Victor was nearby, but Yuri could tell that he didn’t have the same energy boost following the North American rinks that he had after Sochi. He hoped that Europe would be better as the competitions were all major. 

Victor’s fingers along his arm from the miraculously empty seat next to him. Yuri turned and smiled before returning his gaze to the window. 

Yuri didn’t want to voice his fears; hoped it was just his imagination, but he worried. Victor was less energetic. They made love les often, and without the urgent need that he’d displayed in and around Barcelona.

The touches were fewer too, though still full of love. Victor seemed to save them for when they were needed or when they were intimate. 

Yuri knew he had to find a way to restore Victor’s soul to his body. 

He started researching while in the US, but everything he’d found that seemed remotely similar to his situation was all fiction. Spirit of comatose lover attaching itself to a person seemed to be a favorite in the romance genre, but was lacking in the research field. 

Yuri realized that when Victor awoke they would have to discuss sending his photography to scientists somewhere. 

Fingers on Yuri’s arm again. Victor’s worry seeped through. 

Yuri smiled again, reached over and patted where he could feel Victor’s hand. “Just lost in thought,” he whispered in an attempt to not wake those sleeping around him. 

They both knew it was a lie, but Victor seemed to accept that Yuri didn’t want to talk about it. 

Yuri looked up at the screen at the front of the cabin. It showed another hour of flight time. He sighed and tried to sleep, but quickly gave up. He dug in his bag for the romance paperback book he’d bought in an airport. 

If he lacked scientific data, then he’d have to rely on fiction for clues on how to save Victor.

* * *

“Congratulations Yurio,” Yuri said, hugging the teen. “Gold at nationals your first year as a senior. I’m proud of you.”

Yurio beamed at Yuri. “Thanks Katsudon!”

Yuri set down his camera bag and rummaged through it until he found the omamori from Minami. He handed it over. “Your partner in crime says thanks and wanted to give you a good luck charm too.”

Yurio grinned. “I can’t wait to introduce him to Otabek.”

Yuri laughed. “You know they’ll be competing against each other at Four Continents, right?”

Yurio’s eyes went wide. “Get me tickets! JJ will be there too! I need to be there to fight for my friends.”

Yuri laughed. “You know Yakov won’t let you, not so close to your first worlds.”

Yurio scowled. “There’s a month between them!”

Yuri laughed harder. “Believe me, you’ll be glad for that practice. You’ll see them both at worlds.”

Yurio grumbled then started walking with Yuri toward his hotel room. “So where have you been? I thought you’d have arrived with the rest of the press. They’ve been all over practice.”

Yuri hummed. “I don’t need as many practice photos since Japan isn’t represented here. But I’ve been busy.”

“Busy? Doing what?”

“I spent a week touring the US and Canada, then I went to Sheffield, Zagreb and Budapest.”

“Woah!”

“After Europeans I go to Warsaw, Gothenburg, Tallinn, Helsinki, and I’ll finish in Saint Petersburg.”

“Than you’ll be finished?”

Yuri nodded. “All the major international competitions of Victor’s senior career.”

“Just the major ones?” Yurio teased.

Yuri chuckled. “Well… when I was in an area already I took others. Like when I was in Zagreb I recreated one from a Golden Spin, but I wouldn’t have gone just for it. He had enough of a career with the top tier competitions for the book.”

Yurio smiled, then it faltered. “It’s a lot to live up to. He had ups and downs before hitting his streak, but he was never far from the top.”

Yuri ruffled Yurio’s hair. “Remember, skate for you, not for them. Chase your dream.”

Yurio smiled again. “It’s hard, especially when everybody tells me they expect great things.”

Yuri felt Victor’s worry and it matched his own. He pulled Yurio aside. “Listen Yurio. That expectation is a trap. Because you’ll never meet it. When you think you’ve reached it they move it on you. They’ll always want more, bigger, better. I’ve watched people burn out and get hurt, pushing themselves because they fell for it. You’re lucky in a way, you train in a primarily Russian rink. I trained with people from around the world. I watched when my rinkmates felt that pressure from their governments, from their people. 

“Every nation wants a champion, Yurio, without fail. But you don’t skate for them because you’re obligated to, but because you want to show your love of country. Never confuse the two. Look at your friend Otabek, he skates to show the strength of Kazakhstan. Look at Phichit, he skates to show that Thailand can produce talented skaters too. They have just as much pressure as you do, because they’re also in the spotlight of their governments.”

Yuri paused for a minute, then smiled. “There are two ways to skate for your country. You can hear only the expectations, and have them weigh you down. Or you can hear the love and admiration and have it lift you up.”

“How did you skate Katsudon?”

Yuri sighed. “I skated the first way. Every time I did good I heard the expectations, and then I worried about what would happen when I failed. I talked myself into more failures than I can count. That’s why I know it’s a trap.”

“But what if I only hear the expectation?”

“Then you’re not looking hard enough.” Yuri looked around, and spotted a gaggle of girls in the stands watching the practice. He turned Yurio and pointed at them. “Look at what I see… Yuri’s angels. Do they disappear when you fall?”

Yurio barked out a laugh. “No. But they’re scary.”

“They might be scary, but they’re always there for you, no matter what kind of day you have. I know you probably watch their social media accounts, and they always find the best in your performances and are always excited for the next one. They like to see you win, but watching you skate is what makes them happy.”

Yurio softened slightly. 

“Yakov, and Lilia… they’re hard on you, but they stand by you, and offer reasonable ways to improve yourself.”

Yurio nodded. 

“You have your whole family in Japan too, we don’t care if you stumble, as long as you pick yourself back up and show the world the strong and confident Yurio that we all know. Heck, you could pop or fall on every one of your jumps and Kaasan would probably rush to bring you katsudon to make you feel better.”

Yurio smiled. 

“Look to the people who stay Yurio. Not the press, which is always seeking the next story, and not to officials who want a shiny object. You’ll never live up to what they want because they always want more. Make the people who matter to you smile, and know that the important ones will support you on both good days and bad.”

Yuri felt peace from Victor as Yurio leaned in for a hug.

* * *

 

Yuri leaned against the ferry’s railing, breathing in the cold salty air of the Baltic Sea halfway between Helsinki and Saint Petersburg. 

He had one Grand Prix Final venue left: the Ice Palace in Saint Petersburg. He realized he should have made the trip to the additional arena when he’d visited over the summer, but hadn’t thought about it at the time. 

Yurio was looking forward to his visit, and he’d agreed to spend a couple days in the city before returning to Hasetsu. They had plans to celebrate the teen’s European Championship win together. 

Yuri’s thoughts wandered to Victor’s presence next to him. He’d gotten a bit stronger as they’d toured Europe, but Yuri could feel that it wasn’t enough. Victor was getting weaker. 

He was running out of time. 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	14. Desperation - Four Continents Through Worlds 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri desperately searches for an answer as he feels Victor's presence weakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end. 
> 
> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

“Mari-neesan?”

Mari ducked her head out of the kitchen. “Yes Yuri?”

“Have you seen the book I was reading? I set it down someplace and can’t find it.”

“You left it in the dining room. One of the guests was reading it a little while ago. Check the newspaper stand.”

Yuri turned to retrieve his book but felt a hand on his arm. He turned to see Mari standing beside him. 

“When did you start reading romance novels Yuri?”

Yuri blushed. “I… um…”

Mari sighed. “I don’t read English well enough to get through an entire book, but I know enough to get a general idea of what they’re about.” She paused. “Every one of the books you brought back with you from the US are about lovers where one of them is in a coma.”

Yuri made a noise and looked at the floor. 

Mari released his arm. “Yuri. It doesn’t work like that. I know you love him, but it’s medicine that’s going to bring him back. Besides, even if Chris was right, and he was thinking about you when the accident happened… he might not remember you at all. They had to reduce swelling in his brain. They might have caught it in time to prevent long-term damage, or they might not have. We have no idea what he’ll be like if or when he wakes up. He could be a completely different person. He might not remember meeting you, he might not even remember skating.”

Yuri scowled and stepped back. “Thank you for telling me where I left my book.”

Yuri couldn’t miss Mari’s sigh as he walked toward the dining room. 

* * *

 

Yuri stretched and saved the photo he’d been working on. He and the publisher had agreed that black and white photos would provide a sharp contrast to the colorful images featuring Victor. It meant more work processing each image, but Yuri knew the end result would be worth it. 

He took one final look, nodded, and put a copy of the final image in the dropbox folder he shared with his editor. 

Yuri leaned back, and glanced over at the open suitcase on his bed. Makkachin laid on the bed next to it, eyes sad and flicking between it and Yuri. Yuri stood, walked over and scratched behind her ears. 

“I know girl. I’ve only been back a few days. It’s only a week this time though. Then I’ll be back for several weeks before worlds. Then once worlds is over we’ll probably have a couple months before I have to go anywhere for more than a few days.”

Makkachin thumped her tail, but Yuri still noticed a soft whine. 

* * *

* * *

 

“Otabek!” Yuri called as he caught the skater coming off the ice after practice. 

Otabek nodded and stopped. 

“I have a message for you from Yurio.”

“Ok.”

Yuri bit his lip, and made a thumbs up sign. 

Otabek chuckled and the barest smile crossed his face. 

“I take it you know what that means?”

“Da.”

Yuri smiled. “Then I’ll consider the message delivered.”

“It is.”

Yuri nodded and wandered to where Minami’s group was preparing for their practice. “How you doing Minami-kun?”

Minami nodded. “I’m good. Nervous, but good.”

“Remember, have fun and learn. Consider this your dress rehearsal for worlds.”

Minami smiled. “I think, that as long as the audience enjoys my skate… I’ll be happy. It’s meant to be fun, so that’s how I’m going to skate it.”

Yuri smiled. “That’s the best way to skate.”

“Get more good photos of me smiling?”

Yuri nodded. “Just as long as you keep that happy face when you skate.”

* * *

 

Yuri closed the laptop and breathed a sigh of relief. Photos from the first day of competition in Taipei had been sent, and he could relax for an hour or so before he had to go to bed. 

But Yuri couldn’t relax, he had a problem to face. 

“Victor?”

Victor’s presence strengthened as he paid attention. 

“We… need to talk.”

Fingers against Yuri’s cheek. He leaned into the touch. “I love you Victor, but you made me a promise, and it’s time you made good on it.”

Fear. 

Yuri chewed his lip. “Victor… I… I feel it. You’re getting weaker. I kept hoping that all those venues at once would help, but it was only a tiny boost. I’m not any closer to an answer than I was all those months ago, and I’m scared that you’re running out of time.”

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

A tear slid down Yuri’s cheek. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name since Sapporo…” He wiped away the tear. “I can hear the exhaustion in it. It takes so much just to be with me. I’m scared Victor.”

Victor wrapped his arms around Yuri and shook his head into his neck. 

“I know you don’t want to go. But you have to find somebody who can help you now.”

Victor shook his head again. 

“Please! Please Victor. I’ll find you when you wake up, I promise. I won’t let us be separated like this, but I’m scared I’ll lose you forever if you don’t go now.”

Refusal. 

“Please… please.” Yuri was openly crying. “Do this for me. I love you, and I can’t lose you. You’re fading, and I don’t know how to heal you. There’s no research on this. Even fiction doesn’t have a consensus. Some stories write that discovery of love is the key, others a need to protect. I don’t know if just taking you to your body is enough of an answer, and we’ll only have one chance, if that. I don’t know if Yakov will take me to you.”

Victor shook his head. 

“It’s time Victor, you promised. Go now,” Yuri begged.

Hesitation, then acceptance. Victor nodded into Yuri’s neck. 

“I’ll come as soon as you wake up. I promise. We won’t be apart long.”

Victor nodded again. 

“I’ll bring Makka… she’ll be so happy to see you again.”

Victor nodded once more. 

“We can have a real future together.”

A kiss on Yuri’s cheek. 

Victor moved back. 

“I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

Yuri felt Victor’s presence fading, and he cried. 

Victor was still there. 

Confusion. 

Victor tried again.

Victor was still there. 

Fear. 

Victor tried again. 

Victor was still there. 

Panic and exhaustion. Yuri sensed Victor collapse from the effort. 

“You… you can’t leave?”

“ _ Yuri… _ ”

Fresh tears sprung to Yuri’s eyes. “Victor… what are we going to do?”

* * *

 

Yuri chewed on his lip as he took photos of the winners on the podium. JJ had taken the top spot, just edging out Otabek for the win. Phichit grinned and held up his bronze. He spied Minami looking on from the sidelines. The teen had done well and made the top ten, but still had some work to do. 

Yuri rushed rinkside as the men came down from the podium, knowing that Phichit would insist on a few selfies before they left the ice, and he met them at the barrier. 

“Phichit!” Yuri called. 

Phichit looked over and grinned. “Yuri! Two years in a row!”

Yuri smiled. “Get another quad and you’ll likely have to upgrade.”

“I hope so!”

Yuri pulled Phichit aside, away from the mass of reporters. “I… I need your help.”

Phichit’s face turned serious. “Yuri?”

“It… it’s Victor. I’m losing him Phichit. I don’t know what to do.”

Phichit nodded. “What room are you in?”

“Five thirteen.”

“I’ll come by after the press conference. We’ll do room service for dinner and we’ll figure this out. Ok?”

Yuri nodded. “Thanks Phichit, you’re the best.”

Phichit grinned. “I know, but I always like hearing it!”

* * *

 

Yuri sat cross-legged on the bed, Victor’s head in his lap, while Phichit sat in the room’s chair. Yuri detailed everything that had happened since Phichit had confronted him in Barcelona: the fight, Victor getting stronger after Sochi but subsequent rinks not providing the same boost. He finally finished with Victor’s failure to leave. 

“I’m scared Phichit. He’s fading, and I’m no closer to an answer than I was months ago.”

“Have you tried taking photos of the training rink? That should provide a temporary boost at least, right? GIve you a bit more time.”

Yuri shook his head. “It’s off-limits. Yakov said it’s his sanctuary, and I can’t fault him that.”

“This is an emergency Yuri.”

Yuri chewed his lip, then shook his head again. “No. I think… I have to try and do this without that rink. Or I need to save it for last. If Victor does get a boost there then he might need it to go back to his body.”

“Good point.” Phichit sighed. “So the practice rink is off the table for now. Is there any way of stabilizing him?”

“I… don’t know.” Yuri turned to where he could feel Victor’s head against his leg. “Victor?”

Victor shook his head.

Yuri sighed. “He doesn’t know of any way either.”

Phichit leaned back. “You said science didn’t have any hints, and that fiction was a bust…”

Yuri nodded. 

“So let’s go the spiritual path!”

“Huh?”

Phichit leaned forward. “We’re in Taipei, it’s a spiritual hub. You want a religion? You’ll find it here. Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Confucianism, Christianity, Islam… I’m sure that as long as we’re respectful we’ll find local religious leaders willing to talk to us about the soul. Maybe you’ll find an answer.”

Yuri brightened somewhat. “You’re right.”

Phichit grinned. “Extend your stay, and I’ll do the same. We’ll go a couple places tomorrow before the exhibition, then really dig in. Ciao Ciao has to head right back to Detroit so I’m not on a strict schedule.”

Yuri nodded. 

* * *

 

“Mari-neesan?”

“Hai Yuri.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be staying in Taipei an extra couple days so Phichit and I can catch up.”

“What are you two going to do?”

“Umm, sightsee mostly. We have plans to visit a bunch of old temples.”

A sigh of relief over the phone. “Ok. I’ll let Kaasan and Tousan know.”

“Thanks.”

“Yuri?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re taking the time to do something fun. You need it.”

“Thanks nee-san.”

* * *

 

Yuri bought tokens and charms for good luck and good health at every shrine, temple or house of worship they visited, but still felt no closer to an answer as he waved farewell to Phichit in the airport and they headed to their respective gates. 

Victor wrapped his arms around Yuri’s shoulders and nuzzled into his neck. Yuri sighed and put a cheap bluetooth headset over his ear. 

“We didn’t find any answers, did we?”

Victor shook his head. 

“Are the charms having any effect?”

Hesitation, and a feeling that Victor was unsure. 

Yuri sighed. “Hang on for me. We’ll find a way.”

* * *

 

Yuri moved several finished photos to the dropbox folder. He saw that many of the ones he’d sent prior to leaving for Four Continents had been moved into the approved folder, with one added to the touch-up folder. 

Yuri blinked, wondering what needed touched up and opened the file. It showed Chris gazing longingly out over the ice in Lyon, reminiscing about meeting Victor. The note that accompanied the photo said that they wanted the photo to be a mix of color and black and white. 

Yuri nodded, then saw that the essays had been added to another working folder. He chewed his lip, then opened the one Chris had written. 

Yuri started crying as he read. Chris detailed how they’d met, and how they’d become friends. He talked about their rivalry on the ice but that they were unconditionally supportive of each other. He discussed how Victor had changed the sport, and what his loss meant to men’s figure skating. 

Yuri felt fondness, and realized that Victor had moved over to read it too. 

“He’s a good friend…”

Victor nodded into Yuri’s neck. 

“I want you to wake up. Everybody misses you.”

Gentle kisses along Yuri’s jawline. 

Yuri hummed softly, then looked over to make sure his door was closed. He turned back to his computer and opened the folder that showed the progression of Victor against empty ice. He flicked through, from the tiny flare through the slightly blurry person from the final photos. 

Yuri sighed, and felt fresh tears. “How do I help you?”

More kisses on his neck, and hands roaming down his chest. He whined when fingers brushed along his cock. 

Victor touched him a second time, then motioned toward the bed. 

“Are you sure?” Yuri whispered. “You’re already so weak.”

Victor nodded into his neck, and Yuri could feel the desperate desire. 

Yuri sighed, unwilling to refuse. He knew Victor was running out of time, and if he wanted to spend some of his remaining energy being intimate with Yuri it was a desire Yuri would grant. 

He stood and removed his clothes before sliding under the covers. Victor joined him and they spent several minutes kissing, Victor’s fingers tracing along Yuri’s body until he was hard and flush with need. 

Yuri whined when Victor pressed fingers against his entrance, and gasped as he was opened. Then Victor was inside him, moving slowly, each languid stroke a reminder of love. 

They kissed, unhurried as Victor moved. Fingers tangled into Yuri’s hair, and skin pressed against his. They rocked together, and Yuri allowed himself to drown in the pleasure, because it was what Victor wanted. 

Yuri lost track of time as they made love. His entire body tingled with pleasure, and when he came the orgasm seemed to last an eternity. 

They stayed connected for several soft minutes, trading kisses, before Victor pulled and out laid beside Yuri. 

Yuri could feel the exhaustion, how much a toll the act had taken on Victor’s already waning energy. He opened his arms, inviting Victor to cuddle, and sighed as soft hair brushed against his chest. 

They relaxed, enjoying just being together. 

Victor was gone. 

Yuri sat up, cum sliding down his stomach as he looked around the room. 

“Victor?”

Nothing. 

“Victor?”

Nothing. 

Yuri started to panic, then felt the barest hint of Victor’s presence, still lying on the bed beside him. Yuri turned and laid back down, tears in his eyes. 

Victor tried to wipe away the tears, but his arm fell quickly. He was too exhausted to do anything more than make his presence known. 

“I was scared I’d lost you,” Yuri hiccupped. “You were there… then just… gone.”

Sorrow, and loss. 

In that moment they both realized that, unless Victor woke up, they had made love for the final time.

“ _ Yu...ri… _ ”

* * *

 

Yuri started visiting a shrine every morning. He prayed for Victor’s recovery, and for more time. 

He felt Mari’s eyes on him more often too. He understood that to anyone else his actions seemed increasingly erratic, but he was loathe to discuss it with his family as he had Phichit. 

He didn’t want to put Victor through any unnecessary strain. 

Yuri spent several hours each day training, telling Victor that he wanted to be in good shape for his new coach. Each night he worked on cleaning up the remaining photos for the book. 

Yuri put the final photos in the dropbox at the end of the first week in March, less than two weeks after his return from Taipei. 

Yuri turned as he waited for the files to upload to the cloud, and looked at his bed. Makkachin laid on it, whining softly. Victor was curled up next to her, regret his strongest emotion. 

Yuri knew that Victor had started to say goodbye, and Yuri knew that he was to blame. 

“I’m sorry…”

Makkachin looked at him as Victor’s presence moved close. The barest brush of fingers and of lips against his face. 

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I failed.”

Victor leaned in and shook his head into Yuri’s neck. 

“Yes I did…” Yuri clenched his fists. 

Another no. 

Yuri sighed. “Victor… let’s go to Saint Petersburg again after Boston. We’ll find a way to convince Yakov that I have to see you. I don’t know if it’s enough, but it’s the only choice we have.”

Victor nodded.

“I don’t think this is something we can do before worlds though. Yakov and Yurio will have to leave in a week or so. Can you hold on just a little bit longer?”

Another nod.. 

“You’ll be home soon. It’s the only road left.”

A brush of lips against his forehead before Victor returned to Makkachin’s side. 

* * *

 

Yuri breathed a sigh of relief as he read the email. The photo proofs had been delivered to his editor and they all looked good. They scheduled a meeting a few days before Worlds to go over final processes, but otherwise Yuri’s part was complete. 

Yuri ran his fingers through his hair and noticed how the strands kept going. “It’s getting long. I should get it cut before worlds.”

A feeling of refusal from Victor. 

“You like it long?”

Affirmation. 

Yuri crossed to the bed and sat on the edge to pull off his socks. He glanced to the dog bed in the corner, where Makkachin was snoring softly.

“I never asked… once I knew it was you. Are you ok with this book?”. 

Victor knelt behind him and nodded into his neck. Yuri almost scolded him, but realized that it was time anyway.

They’d instituted a rule after the last time they’d had sex. Victor was to conserve energy as much as possible. Touching only when necessary, except for a bit of cuddling at bedtime. 

Yuri took off his shirt and slid under the covers. Soon Victor’s presence was in his arms, head on his chest. 

“In a few weeks, when we cuddle… I’ll be able to run my fingers through your hair,” Yuri whispered, hope in his voice. 

VIctor nodded. 

“We leave for Boston next week. I’ll talk to Yurio, I think he’ll believe me, especially if we bring in Phichit. We’ll figure out a way to convince Yakov that I have to take photos of the practice rink, and that I have to see you.”

Fingers tracing over his chest, and a kiss on the front of his shoulder. 

“I love you…”

“ _ Yu...ri… _ ”

Yuri sighed. “Hush… you know talking makes you weaker.”

Yuri felt the resigned acceptance. 

“I’m sorry… but we have to conserve your strength. We should start limiting the cuddling too.”

Victor shook his head, even as sad agreement filled Yuri. 

* * *

 

Yuri gasped as he awoke, every limb throbbing with a pain he knew instinctively wasn’t his own. 

It was Victor’s. 

Yuri grit his teeth, hands curling into the sheets as he fought back waves of agony. 

“ _ Yu...ri… _ ” Victor called weakly once the episode had passed. Yuri could barely feel him. 

They had run out of time. 

Yuri looked at the clock, it had only been a couple hours since they had gone to bed, a couple hours since he’d asked Victor to hang on. 

Tears streamed down Yuri’s face as he rushed to his computer, urging it to boot faster. As soon as he could open a web browser he started researching flights to Saint Petersburg. He booked the one that got him there soonest, an almost eighteen hour flight that left at seven that morning. 

Yuri did the math in his head. He’d have to be on the first train out of Hasestu, the one that left at five in the morning, which left him three hours to pack. 

Makkachin watched him, worry creasing her brow as Yuri pulled his suitcase out and threw it on the bed. He grabbed things at random, underwear, shirts, sweaters, his heaviest coat from Detroit, scarves and pants. 

“I’ll figure out a hotel once I get there…” he muttered to the room. “Maybe on the flight. No time now…”

Yuri turned off his computer and made sure his camera bag was ready to go. He shoved the leftover rubles from his last trip into his wallet. He was rummaging through his paperwork, making sure his visa was still good when Makkachin barked. 

Yuri stood. 

Victor was gone. 

“Victor?”

Makkachin whined. 

“Victor!”

Yuri ran to the closet and threw it open. He knew that it didn’t make sense, but felt that he had to do something as he looked. 

“Victor!”

Makkachin started barking. 

“Victor!”

A cacophony filled his room between his calls, Makkachin barking and the sounds of him looking. 

“ _ Yu...ri… _ ”

Victor was on the bed again, so weak that Yuri could barely feel him. 

“Victor! I… I…”

The door slid open with a bang, a panicked Mari stood there. “Yuri!”

Her eyes swept the room, and landed on the suitcase. “What’s going on Yuri?”

Yuri moved back to the bed and started packing again. “I’m going to Saint Petersburg.”

“You were just there a few weeks ago, and I thought you had plans to be there again after worlds.”

“Plans changed. My flight leaves in a few hours. I’m going now.”

Mari scowled and walked to the desk. She grabbed Yuri’s passport and tucked it into a pocket, then she crossed to the bed and shut the suitcase. “No, you’re not.”

“Give me back my passport nee-san.”

“No. Yuri, we’re worried about you. You’re not well, and we’ve already let this get out of hand.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Yuri, we’ve all seen it: the way you talk to yourself when you think nobody’s looking, how you seem to think Victor Nikiforov is in the room with you. You were always obsessed, and the added stress of this book has made you crack. You need some time at home, without being on an international flight every other week.”

Yuri whined. “Nee-san. Please. I have to go.”

“You have to stay, you have to let him go.”

“I’m running out of time!” Yuri cried, sinking to his knees and holding his head. “Please… please Mari-neesan. Trust me. He’s dying!”

“He’s not dying! He’s in a hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses. It’s their job to keep him alive, not yours! Let them focus on healing Nikiforov, and you focus on healing you.”

“He’s dying!” Yuri yelled. “I have to go! I have to help him!”

“What makes you think you can?”

“I don’t know! I might not be able to do anything, but I have to try!”

Mari softened her tone, but didn’t move. “Yuri…”

“No! Please nee-san. Please, trust me. I have to do this.”

Mari stared. 

“Please!” Yuri begged. “If I’m wrong I’ll come home. I’ll start therapy. But I have to go right now!”

Mari sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “How will you even get to him? You know access has to be limited, not to mention it’s not publicly known where he is.”

“I’m going to convince Yakov to take me to him.”

“How Yuri?”

Yuri sighed. “If I show you, will you let me pack at least?”

Mari sighed, considered then nodded. “I’m keeping your passport until I’m convinced though.”

Yuri nodded. “My laptop… it’s… I need to get it from the suitcase.”

“Your laptop?”

Yuri nodded again. “The evidence is on it. I know other people can see it, because both Phichit and Yurio have seen the photos, even though Yurio hasn’t seen them all.”

Mari nodded and allowed Yuri to get out his laptop. He put it back on the desk and turned it on. As soon as it booted he navigated to the Empty Ice folder, then to the one with the glitching photos. 

“Just… scroll through. It won’t make sense at the beginning, but go all the way to the end anyway.”

“Ok…” Mari grumbled as she sat at the desk. 

Yuri pointed out the first flare. “This is the start. It moves around, but it’s in every one of these photos. Watch how it grows.”

Yuri watched Mari click through the first several photos, then resumed packing. 

Makkachin whined from the dog bed and Yuri walked over to scratch behind her ears. “Don’t worry Makka, I’ll save him.”

Yuri finished packing, and his eyes drifted to the clock. He had less than an hour before he had to leave for the station. His knee bounced as he waited for Mari to make her decision. 

“All these are real?” Mari finally asked. 

“Yes.”

“And if I call Yurio right now?”

“He knows about some of them, up through Calgary…. When it still looked like hair.”

“Phichit knows too?”

Yuri nodded, then remembered she was facing away from him. “In the photos where he’s hovering over me, Phichit was asking questions. When we went sightseeing in Taipei we visited temples and holy places to talk to spiritual leaders. We were looking for an answer.”

Mari turned and stared at him. Yuri could just make out the outline of his passport in her pocket. 

“Why didn’t you talk to us about this?”

Yuri looked up and sighed. “It’s… not the easiest thing to talk about. Even Phichit had to drag it out of me. I thought I was going crazy.”

“I’m not convinced you aren’t…”

Yuri sighed and looked at the floor. 

“But…” 

Yuri looked up again. 

“I’m no longer convinced you are either.” Mari pulled the passport from her pocket and held it out. “Go see if you can save him. I’ll talk to Kaasan and Tousan.”

Yuri took the passport, tears in his eyes. “Thanks nee-san.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “Even if you’re not crazy, and this works, you have a lot of explaining to do. We were all worried. Maybe if we’d have known we could have helped.”

Yuri nodded. 

“Now finish packing. I’ll give you a ride to the station.”

Yuri nodded and wiped the tears away. “Thank you.”

* * *

They were somewhere over Russia, on the flight between Tokyo and Moscow, when Victor had another attack.

Yuri gripped the seat and grit his teeth against the pain. He felt the stares of the old woman next to him, but he was too busy fighting the pain to respond almost until a flight attendant came over to respond to the call button. 

“Are you ok sir?”

Yuri nodded, and felt sweat against his brow. “Sorry for scaring you. Muscle cramp.”

“Are you sure?”

Yuri nodded. “I’m sure, but… can I get some water please?”

“Of course.” The flight attendant walked in the direction of the galley to get the water. 

“Muscle cramps are the worst,” the old woman said, patting his hand. “I used to get them all the time when I was younger. Let me know if you need me to move so you can walk around a bit.”

Yuri smiled. “Thank you. I think I’ll be ok now. It seems to have passed.”

The flight attendant handed Yuri a bottle of water, which he promptly drank half of. 

Yuri fought the urge to call out to Victor. He could barely feel him he was so weak.

* * *

Yuri looked at the time when he arrived in Moscow. He was exhausted, unable to sleep on the flight.

He had tried, but every time he was close to sleep his anxiety had clawed its way to the fore. He still had no idea how he was going to convince Yakov. He knew that the photos were the best option, but wasn’t sure if they were enough.

Yuri looked at a clock again, and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed, and the call went to voicemail. Yuri dialed again, and once more it went to voicemail. 

On the third try the call was answered. Yurio answered, an annoyed tone to his voice.

“Yurio?”

“Katsudon?” Yurio asked, immediately changing his tone. “Why are you calling?”

“I’ll explain later.” Yuri looked at the clock again. “When do you leave practice today?”

“We leave for worlds in a few days, so Yakov is working us hard. It’ll probably be late. Why?”

“Good.” Yuri heard Yakov bellow at Yurio to get back on the ice. “You should go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait… Katsudon!”

Yuri hung up. He grabbed lunch at one of the fast food places on the terminal then made his way to his next gate. 

“I’m coming Victor… Hold on.”

* * *

“Yubileyny Sports Palace,” Yuri said to the cab driver as he slid into the back seat.

“Hotel near sport palace?” the driver asked. 

Yuri shook his head. “No. The sports palace.”

The driver shrugged and eased the car into traffic. 

Yuri turned on his phone again to see several missed calls from Yurio. It was after seven. He hoped he wasn’t too late as he called the teen. 

“Katsudon! About time!” Yurio yelled as soon as he answered. “What the hell was that about earlier? Why weren’t you answering?”

“Are you still at the rink Yurio?”

“Of course I’m still at the rink! Yakov’s been in and out all day and won’t explain why, and you’re being weird too. What’s going on?”

“Look Yurio. I’ll explain everything. But keep Yakov there. I’m on my way.”

“What do you mean you’re on your way?”

“I mean, I just landed in Saint Petersburg and am in a cab headed toward the rink now. I have to talk to Yakov, and it has to be tonight.”

“What the hell Katsudon!”

“Please Yurio. Just keep him there.”

Yurio sighed. “Da. I’ll keep Yakov here. But you better hurry. He’s been anxious all day and I think he’s about to call it a night.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

* * *

It was shortly after eight that night when the cab driver dropped Yuri off at the entrance to the training rink.

Yuri found the one unlocked door and ran inside, luggage rolling behind him. “Yakov Feltsman!” he gasped at the lone woman behind the counter. 

She pointed. 

“Spasibo.”

Yuri ran toward the ice, and opened the doors to the rink to see an angry Yakov Feltsman flanked by Yurio and Mila, each of whom wore concerned expressions. 

“Katsuki!” Yakov bellowed. “What’s this about?”

“Thank god you’re still here…” Yuri said, doubling over and bracing his hands on his knees.

Yakov grumbled. 

“I… I have to take photos of the training rink,” Yuri said, deciding it was better to get right to the point. “And then I have to see Victor… in the hospital.”

“What!”

Yuri looked up. “Please sir. I absolutely have to take photos here.”

“I expressly told you that photos here are off limits.”

“I know sir, but I don’t have a choice.”

“I’ll call that editor myself then!” Yakov turned to storm toward what Yuri assumed was his office. 

“It’s not for the book!”

Yakov stopped. “What do you mean it’s not for the book?”

“I’ve already submitted the final photos. The editor never pushed for photos from here. I need to take photos here, but not for the book.”

Yakov sighed. “Look Katsuki, I know this empty rink thing does something for you. But we had an agreement. You may not take photos here.”

“Please sir, I have to. And I have to see Victor.”

“Absolutely not!” Yakov roared. 

“He’s dying!” Yuri screamed. 

The words echoed through the space, bouncing off the high ceiling. 

Yakov’s face grew red, and he stomped over to Yuri. “Get out of my rink.” He turned and stormed away.

Tears slid down Yuri’s face, he was terrified and he knew it was his last chance. “There was an incident at the hospital! Late last night, and another earlier today.”

Yakov stopped. 

“They nearly lost him!”

Yakov turned back toward Yuri, walked over and gripped Yuri’s upper arm so tight that his knuckles turned white. “Who told you? Was it Yura? Or did you bribe somebody at the hospital to disobey the gag order?”

“Nobody told me,” Yuri said softly. “Please sir. I just know. I knew as soon as it happened. It was just around two this morning in Japan… There was a second scare about thirty minutes later. Then the second major incident earlier today. I couldn’t have been told. I was asleep when the first happened, and on a plane when the second hit. Yurio’s been trying to call me for hours but my phone has been off.”

“Wait…” Mila said. “Is that why Yakov rushed out without a word earlier?”

Yakov turned. “You two, didn’t know?”

“Tch,” Yurio scoffed. “Hard to know things that you don’t tell us.”

“Please sir. I have to take photos here.”

Yakov studied Yuri. “Why are photos from here so important?”

“He’s getting weaker,” Yuri babbled. “But he gets stronger after I photograph important places…”

Yakov turned to Yurio. “Yura?”

“Hell if I know…”

“Please…” Exhaustion was catching up to Yuri. “I… I can prove it to you.”

Yakov released Yuri’s arm, and Yuri nearly fell over. 

“The glitching photos…” Yuri muttered as he opened his bag and removed his laptop. 

Yurio moved closer and stared over Yuri’s shoulder. “You mean those weird photos from your old camera?”

Yuri nodded. 

“What is he talking about Yura?”

Yurio stood. “His old camera had this weird bug. That’s why he got the new one. These silver things started showing up in the photos.”

“So he wants me to look at a bunch of photos with camera errors?”

Yurio shrugged and Yuri nodded. “Please.”

Yakov sighed. “I’ll look, but you’re going to lay on that bench over there before you collapse on me.”

Yuri opened the folder for Yakov, then allowed Mila to lead him to the bench. He collapsed onto it. 

“When did you last sleep Yuri?” Mila asked, sitting next to him. 

“I was asleep… maybe two hours. Then Victor… Victor….” Yuri sobbed. “He was in so much pain. I booked a flight. Then it happened again on the plane.”

“So… two hours last night?”

Yuri nodded. 

Mila studied him for a minute then turned to Yakov. “I think he’s been up since whatever happened to Victor last night.”

Yuri nodded. 

Mila hesitated, then, “Yakov, what  _ did _ happen to Victor last night? Why didn’t you tell us?”

Yakov sighed. “The doctors don’t know, but they said it was like his body just gave up. He was breathing on his own again as of this afternoon, but they said we need to prepare ourselves for his death.”

“What the hell?” Yurio yelled. “Why wouldn’t you tell us something like that?”

“And have you do what?” Yakov roared in response. “You leave for Boston in four days! I can’t have you worrying about him when you need to focus on skating.”

“But we care too!”

“And that’s why I didn’t say anything!” Yakov sighed. “Look Yura, they said to prepare, but had no other advice. He’s been in a coma for over a year. This could be the beginning of the end, or a blip that gets forgotten. I can’t have his condition distracting you.”

“Photos,” Yuri muttered, eyes drooping. 

Yuri felt Yakov’s eyes on him. 

“Mila, see if there’s a sweater or something in his bag that can be used as a pillow.”

Mila patted Yuri’s knee and stood. She returned a moment later with a blue sweater. 

“Rest Yuri,” she said. “I’ll wake you up once Yakov is done looking at the photos.”

Yuri nodded, too exhausted to argue. “Please,” he muttered as he drifted off, “for Victor…”

* * *

Gentle shaking. Yuri opened his eyes to see Mila kneeling in front of him. “How long was I asleep?” he mumbled.

“About an hour. Yakov wants to talk to you.”

Yuri sat up and ran his hand through his hair. 

“How do I know these photos aren’t fake?” Yakov demanded. 

Yuri blinked several times before the question made sense. “Why would I fake photos?” he mumbled. 

“Oi, Katsudon!”

Yuri turned to Yurio. “Yurio?”

“You look like shit. Where are you staying?”

Yuri pulled out his phone, opened the email with the hotel reservation he’d made on the plane, then squinted at it. He gave up after a few seconds and handed the phone to Yurio. 

Yurio looked at it. “It’s close at least.” He turned to Yakov and said something in Russian. 

“What are they saying?” Yuri asked Mila. 

Mila bit her lip then smiled. “They say that it’s time to get you to the hotel.”

“What about the photos?” Yuri panicked. “I have to take them!”

Yakov walked over. “I have to think about it. I made copies and will look at them again when I get home. I’ll give you my decision tomorrow.”

“But…”

“Don’t argue with me Katsuki. If you do I’ll refuse now.”

Yuri slumped and nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Yura and I will take you to the hotel, and he will spend the night with you. We’ll inform them of the reservation change when we get there.”

Yuri nodded. They shoved his sweater and computer back into his bag, then escorted him to a waiting cab. Yakov gave directions to the driver while Yuri attempted to stay awake. Then they were ushering him through the halls of a hotel. Yakov was still talking to Yurio in the entry as Yuri trudged toward the bed. 

He collapsed on it, and felt the faintest hint of Victor’s presence. “We’re here Victor. Hold on just a bit longer. Please…”

* * *

Yuri blinked away the light streaming through the curtains. Somebody was shaking his shoulder.

“Mari?” he mumbled, wondering why his room looked weird. 

“Try again,” Yurio muttered. 

“Yurio?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Why are you here?” Yuri asked. 

“Because Yakov wanted me to look after you.”

“Yakov?”

Slowly the day before came back to him, the frantic flight out of Japan, nerves eating at him all day as he willed the planes to fly faster. “Oh yeah… I’m in Saint Petersburg…” he paused. “Victor!”

Yuri sat up, and immediately regretted it as an exhaustion headache throbbed behind his eyes. “Ow.”

“Woah Katsudon,” Yurio said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “He’s still alive.”

Yuri looked around the room until he could feel him, only then did he start to settle. 

“Katsudon?”

“What is it Yurio?”

“Why… why didn’t you tell me? Those photos… that was Victor.”

“What would have done if I had? What  _ could _ you have done?”

“I…” Yurio stalled and slumped. 

“If it makes you feel any better… it’s only since Barcelona that I’ve been even slightly sure myself. I thought I was going crazy, then once I did learn the truth I was pretty focused on finding a way to help him.”

Yurio’s phone rang. He stood, walked over, answered it, and had a brief discussion in Russian. “That was Yakov,” he said once he hung up. “He wants us at the rink in an hour. He has a decision for you.”

Yuri chewed his lip and nodded. “Thank you.”

Yurio nodded. “I’ll call room service and have them expedite an order. You get in the shower. You reek of somebody who spent the better part of a day on a plane.”

Yuri laughed. “When you visit this summer we’ll have to work on your tact.”

Yurio snickered. “Too much a time waster. Now get in the shower loser.”

Yuri relaxed as the hot water cascaded over his skin. He knew that no matter what Yakov decided, the end was approaching. He’d either have his chance or he wouldn’t. It was out of his hands. 

Victor would wake up, or his presence would continue to fade until it was gone. 

“I’m scared Victor,” Yuri said softly. “What if this doesn’t work?”

“ _ Yu...ri… _ ”

Yuri rinsed off. It was as he was toweling dry that Yurio knocked on the door. “Katsudon? Food is here.”

“Thank you.”

Yuri pulled on jeans and a sweater then joined Yurio in the room, where the teen had already started eating. 

“What did you order?”

“Breakfast,” Yurio shot back. 

Yuri chuckled then started in on his meal. 

“Katsudon?” Yurio asked after several bites.

“Hmm?”

“It’s more than the photos… isn’t it?”

“Why do you say that?”

“You… were talking to him in your sleep.”

Yuri sighed, then nodded. “He’s been… haunting, for lack of a better word, me since the summer.”

“So that’s how you knew about the incident at the hospital?”

Yuri nodded. “We’ve been connected, and I felt this immense pain. I knew it was him. Then he was so weak after. I knew I had to come.”

Yurio nodded. “I… I don’t know what Yakov decided. He wouldn’t tell me. But I hope that he gives you a chance.”

“Thanks Yurio.”

* * *

Yuri and Yurio walked into the rink.

Yuri saw everybody waiting at the edge of the rink as the zamboni warmed up and prepared to resurface the ice. 

Yakov turned to them. Mila stood nearby, an anxious look on her face. 

“I’ve decided,” Yakov said, “and I’ve cleared my decision with Vitya’s parents. They know everything I do.”

Yuri swallowed and nodded. 

“I don’t have a way to test if those old photos are real or fake, so I will allow you to photograph the rink.”

Yuri breathed a sigh of relief. 

“But,” Yakov continued. “You will use brand new memory cards, and we’ll look at the photos on my computer. The only thing of yours that is allowed is the camera.”

Yuri nodded. “I understand sir.”

Yakov nodded and handed some money to Mila. “Take Yura to the store down the street that sells memory cards. Get two.”

Mila nodded and confirmed the type that Yuri’s camera used. 

Once they were out of earshot Yakov came close to Yuri. “I still don’t know if I believe all this Katsuki, but we… Vitya’s parents and I, are willing to give you this one chance. If you can show me images of Vitya here, that I haven’t seen in your previous photos, then I’ve got permission to take you to the hospital.”

“Thank you sir.”

Yakov squeezed his shoulder. “I.. I hope whatever you’re planning works, for both your sakes.”

Yuri smiled. “Me too.”

Mila and Yurio returned just as the zamboni was finishing, and Yakov was able to keep people off the ice. 

Yuri took a deep breath, and tried to remember photos of Victor from the training rink. He thought of one, jacket tied around his waist, leaning on the barrier with the windows behind him. 

Yuri walked around until he found the right angle, then took the photo. 

He continued moving around the barrier, stopping to take photos every once in a while. He felt Victor’s presence strengthening again. “That’s right Victor,” he muttered. “Come back to me.”

Yuri could sense him, dancing in the place that had been his home for so long. He didn’t know if Victor was happy to be back, or if he was saying goodbye.

Yuri made three laps of the rink before he’d filled up one of the new memory cards. 

Yuri chewed on his bottom lip as he pulled it from his camera and handed it to Yakov. 

“Do you want to do the second?”

Yuri shook his head. “I will if nothing shows up on these, but I’d rather not waste the time if there is enough here.”

Yakov stared, then nodded. He pushed the memory card into his computer, then followed Yuri’s directions to convert them from RAW. 

The first few photos showed nothing, and Yuri was starting to get worried. Then Victor was there, leaning against the barrier, hand raised in a wave.

“Vitya…” Yakov breathed. 

Yuri breathed a sigh of relief as Yakov kept clicking. A few photos later Victor was skating, and a few more after that clearly interacting with somebody off camera.

Everybody crowded around as Yakov went through the photos a second time. 

“I remember that,” Georgi said. “That was the day Yura announced his decision to move up to the seniors as soon as he was able.”

“That one was when he was stuck on a choreographic sequence and was just skating ideas,” Mila said at another. “I have that photo on my phone. Nobody outside the rink has seen it though!”

Yuri could see Yakov fighting his emotions as he finished looking the second time. He stood. 

“On the ice everybody. Lilia will be in charge until I get back. Katsuki and I are headed to the hospital.”

Yurio hugged Yuri. “Good luck.”

“I’ll bring him back Yurio.”

“You better.”

* * *

The hospital was a gleaming place of steel against stark white. Yuri knew from a single glance that it was a private hospital, and an expensive one at that. Yakov guided Yuri through corridors until they reached the coma ward.

Yakov spoke to the floor nurse, but the only things Yuri understood were his and Yakov’s names. However he was able to guess the topic of conversation as she entered some information and what appeared to the the time into the computer. 

“They track visitors?” Yuri asked as Yakov steered him toward a room.

Yakov nodded. “Da. It’s part of the reason we moved him here. Press kept bribing staff at the other hospital to try and see him. Here the employees are paid well, well enough that most wouldn’t risk taking a bribe.”

Yakov paused outside a door. He put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “I need to prepare you Katsuki. The casts may be gone, but… he’s been in a coma for fifteen months.”

Yuri nodded. “I understand sir.”

“Do you?”

Yuri sighed, then nodded again. “I’m ready.”

Yakov reached past Yuri and turned the handle. 

The room was lovingly decorated, bright light streaming through the windows and falling on the poodle plushes that decorated every surface. 

“So many fans sent poodles,” Yakov sighed. “I didn’t have the heart to return them or leave them to gather dust in his apartment.”

Yakov took several steps forward, then pulled back the privacy curtain. The bed was against the wall on the left hand side of the room, perfectly placed so that Victor could look out the window if he was awake. 

Victor was laid on the bed, an IV drip attached to his arm, and machines beeping quietly behind him. He was dressed in a pale blue hospital gown, limp hair falling on his shoulders. His cheeks were sunken, and skin sagged where it had once been taut over muscle. 

“Victor…” Yuri whispered. He took a step forward, but was stopped by Yakov.

“I can’t do this every time you get it in your head that you can help Katsuki. This is your one chance. Am I clear?”

Yuri nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Say what you need, but…” Yakov sighed. “Don’t expect him to wake up.”

Yuri chewed on his lip, then nodded again. 

Yakov let Yuri go and moved out of the way. 

Yuri set his camera bag down amidst an overflowing pile of poodle plushes. He took out the camera and placed it on Victor’s right hand. He then walked around the bed and sat near the window. He took Victor’s left hand in between his and held it. 

“Now that I’m here, I don’t know what to say,” Yuri said in Japanese. He leaned in to kiss Victor’s hand. “I don’t know if you can hear me, your presence is so faint.

“These past few months with you have been the most exciting, and the most agonizing of my life. To know I finally had you, all to myself… you were paying attention to me after all those years of wanting. But you weren’t there. I couldn’t hold you, I couldn’t touch you, and the whole time I knew that you were wasting away here. 

“I love you Victor. I always have. Even now, seeing you after all these months in a coma, you’re still radiant to me. One thing that I’ve learned more than anything else these past few months is that beauty isn’t defined by the body, but by the soul, and yours sparkles in its exuberance. You have a love of life that’s unmatched. 

“You made me reach for new heights, before you knew me, and again when you were at my side. You taught me to trust in my own abilities, and to open my eyes to the vastness of the world around me. I’m a better man, because of you.”

Yuri sniffled, and wiped tears from his eyes. 

“Come back to me my love. Not as the spirit you have been, but the full and vibrant man you can be again. I won’t lie, I won’t tell you that everything will be easy, but we’ll stick together. If I can handle you being a spirit for all these months, surely recovery won’t be so bad, especially when we have our full lives ahead of us. We’ll work through things, together, and we’ll be stronger for it.”

“Please Victor. Please. Come back. I don’t know what to do except beg. I’ve taken as many photos as I can. I’ve brought you back here to your body. I don’t know how to cross that final bridge though. I need you to go back yourself. Please my love. Please wake up.”

Yuri kissed Victor’s hand again, then held it on the bed. He leaned in and rested his head on his hands, clasped around Victor’s. 

“Please love, come back…” he repeated it over and over, like a mantra. 

A hand on his shoulder. Yuri startled, having lost track of time as he begged Victor to return. 

Yakov sighed and shook his head. “It’s time Katsuki.”

Yuri felt a tear slide down his cheek, everything in him wanted to argue, but he’d made a promise.

He stood, walked around the bed and retrieved his camera. “Yakov… can I leave an omamori with him?”

Yakov looked over at the small token and nodded.

Yuri curled Victor’s fingers around the package, then put his camera back into the bag. He took one last look, then bit his lip to keep himself from crying as he turned his back on the man he loved. 

“ _ Yu...ri… _ ”

“I’m sorry,” Yuri muttered, wiping away the tears that refused to stop. “I tried. I couldn’t help you.”

“ _ Yu...ri… _ ”

“I’m sorry,” Yuri said again. 

“Vitya…” Yakov breathed.

Yuri looked up, and realized that Yakov had stopped walking. He turned and saw the coach gaping at the bed. Yuri turned some more, until he was looking at Victor. 

Victor’s eyes were open, the barest hint of blue peeking out from under platinum lashes. 

Yuri realized that Victor had called his name aloud. 

Victor’s fingers twitched under the omamori, and Yuri understood that Victor was reaching for him as best he could. “Yu...ri…”

Yuri dropped the camera bag and rushed to Victor’s side. He took his hand between his own, and kissed the fingers. “Victor… Victor… you’re awake.”

“Yuri…” Victor replied weakly. 

Yuri kept kissing Victor’s hand as doctors and nurses rushed into the room, alerted to a change by the monitors. 

Rapid Russian flowed between Yakov and the medical staff, but Yuri couldn’t tear his eyes from Victor. 

“Thirsty…” Victor croaked as staff fussed over him. 

One of the nurses ran from the room and returned with ice chips a moment later. Victor’s eyes fluttered shut as the ice melted against his lips. “Better…” he said after a moment. 

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” Yuri asked, never taking his eyes from Victor’s face. 

Victor opened his eyes again. He smiled weakly. “Yuri… My Yuri…”

Fresh tears spilled down Yuri’s cheeks. “Victor…”

Victor gazed at Yuri, the smile never leaving his face. “Love… Yuri…”

Yuri laughed and sobbed at the same time. “I love you too Victor!”

* * *

> **_Fairy Tale Come True? Victor Nikiforov Wakened By True Love’s Kiss_ **
> 
> _ -Figure Skating World Magazine Staff. _
> 
> Yuri Katsuki stunned the world one year ago with his meteoric rise to the top of the figure skating podium. In the span of mere months he went from a sixth place finish at the Grand Prix Final to breaking all of Victor Nikiforov’s records. He developed new quad jumps faster than anybody thought possible, and made history as the first and probably last man to land a quad-quad combination jump. 
> 
> However, Katsuki made several stunning declarations on the heels of his historic win. First was that he’d dedicated his season to Victor Nikiforov, who had been critically injured in an accident only days after the Grand Prix Final and remained in a coma. The second shock came when Katsuki announced his retirement on the day of his record-setting victory. 
> 
> Yet it was his third and final proclamation in those hours when the world still had eyes on him that left a room full of reporters near tears. Yuri Katsuki revealed to the world that his dream had been to skate against Nikiforov, whom he’d regarded as his idol. More so, that he was in love with him. His statements on what Nikiforov meant to the sport, and to him personally, were some of the most heartfelt and eloquent that many had ever heard. 
> 
> Unfortunately, as time went on, the moment was relegated to history. Katsuki’s win and his reasons for it fell from public attention as fans of the sport turned to the new season. 
> 
> Despite his retirement, Katsuki was never far from figure skating. Even before his stunning announcement he’d caught the attention of several news outlets as a promising photographer. Then Yuri Plisetsky traveled to Japan to temporarily train with the World Figure Skating Championships gold medalist, and the teen’s winning programs were choreographed by Katsuki and Minako Okukawa, Katsuki’s long-time mentor and recipient of the Benois de la Danse.
> 
> Katsuki made news once again near the start of the season when a new photography book centered on the career of Victor Nikiforov was announced, with Katsuki as the photographer. The goal was to examine the life of an athlete by contrasting photos from his most famous performances with those featuring empty ice rinks and arenas. 
> 
> At the same time, Katsuki’s name started to appear on photo credits in articles around the world as news outlets large and small recognized his ability to capture stunning photos of figure skating. 
> 
> Katsuki shocked the world a second time when, pressed by reporters, he indicated that he had not attempted to visit the hospital where Nikiforov remained in a coma, a claim that was later verified by Nikiforov’s coach, Yakov Feltsman. He said that though he loved the comatose man, that as a person who’d only talked to him a handful of times it was not his place to visit. 
> 
> While details remain unclear, what is certain is that something changed between Katsuki’s declaration at the end of November, and the second week of March, when he booked a last minute flight to Saint Petersburg from his home in Hasatsu, Japan. 
> 
> According to witnesses, Katsuki went immediately to the Russian’s training rink at Yubileyny Sports Palace, desperate to prove to Feltsman that he needed to see Nikiforov in the hospital. 
> 
> While it’s unclear how, Kastuki managed to convince the coach, and the next morning they visited the hospital. 
> 
> According to Feltsman, it was as they were leaving that Nikiforov awoke, and called Katsuki’s name. 
> 
> But it is the accounts of the medical staff that gives the story a fairy tale ending. Each of the nurses and doctors who rushed to attend to Nikiforov reported that Katsuki was kissing his hand when they arrived. 
> 
> At last report Nikiforov was awake and alert, and talking. While his long-term recovery prognosis is unclear he is reported to be in good spirits, and very much in love with Yuri Katsuki, whom has barely left his side since his miraculous awakening. 

* * *

Yuri sat in the chair by the window, holding Victor’s hand and smiling. Victor returned the look.

“Gross!” Yurio declared, walking into the hospital room. “Are you two going to talk, or just keep eye-fucking each other.”

Victor laughed and turned his head slowly, still convincing muscles to move again. “Hi Yura, or should I call you Yurio now?”

“Tch,” Yurio responded. “Only family is allowed to use that name.”

Yuri smiled, and lowered the rail on the hospital bed. He climbed up next to Victor, freeing the chair for Yurio. 

“Yuri told me that you were named to the team for worlds,” Victor said as the teen sat. “When do you leave?”

Yurio smiled. “I was supposed to leave yesterday, but Yakov pushed us all back until tomorrow so we could visit and not wear you out. We’ll go with Lilia, and he’ll come in a few days.”

“How are they doing?”

Yurio smiled. “I don’t think either of them is willing to admit it quite yet, but it looks like they’re getting back together. I don’t think they’re ready to get married again, but they seem happier together than apart.”

VIctor smiled. “I’m proud of you Yura. You’ve grown so much.”

“Tch, not like you helped with any of that.”

Victor laughed. “I’m still proud. You’re starting to be the young man I thought I saw in you. You’re stronger now, and I know you work hard.”

Yurio smiled. “Ready for me to break your winning streak?”

Victor smiled. “I’m excited to see you try.”

Yurio laughed. “I’m going to do more than try. Your records are mine to break now.”

Yuri squeezed Victor’s hand. “I’m going to go stretch so you two can talk.”

Victor smiled at him and Yuri leaned in to kiss him. 

“Gross!” Yurio repeated. “Get a room!”

“Technically we’re in my room Yura,” Victor chuckled. “You’re the one who came to visit, remember.”

“I… uh…” Yurio sputtered. 

Yuri squeezed Yurio’s shoulder. “Don’t wear him out Yurio, and remember, he still can’t move so you might have to do things for him or call a nurse.”

“Da,” Yurio nodded. 

Yuri stretched and felt a pop in his back. He took another look at Victor and Yurio then walked into the hall, and almost into Yakov. 

“Yakov! Sir!”

Yakov sighed. “Well I guess that’s a bit of improvement, you’re at least using my name with the sir again.”

Yuri smiled. “Yurio is in there with him now.”

Yakov nodded. “Walk with me Katsuki.”

“Ok.”

They walked out to a visitor courtyard, the sounds of the city filtering down. “I’m sorry,” Yakov started. 

“Yakov?”

“I doubted you, and I yelled when you were legitimately trying to help. I should have realized that after all you’d done, that you wouldn’t suddenly make demands without good cause.”

“You had good reasons sir. You were stressed, and my arrival was chaotic and unannounced.”

“Still, you’ve shown nothing but devotion for Vitya for a year, and when it mattered I doubted you. For that, I apologize.”

Yuri smiled. “Apology accepted, and let me apologize in return, for not saying something sooner. I see now that I shouldn’t have been so private with everything that was happening. Maybe things would have played out better if you’d known.”

Yakov smiled. “Apology accepted.”

They walked among trees just starting to develop buds. “What are you going to do now?” Yakov asked. 

“Victor and I have discussed it. I’m going to go to worlds and photograph the competition, though I won’t be there except for a single day of practice beforehand. Then I’ll return to Japan for a couple of days to get some essentials, and to pick up Makkachin. Victor wants me to move into his apartment so I can save on hotel rooms. I’ll be here after that for as long as my visa allows.”

“I’ll make some calls to see what we can do to extend your stay… if you want.”

Yuri smiled. “I’d appreciate it. Victor has a long recovery, and I’d rather not have to leave every few months just to reset my visa.”

“You’re planning to stay?”

Yuri nodded. “I love him, and I want to be there for him. I know it’s going to be hard at times. I know that he might never fully recover. But… I know that beside him is where I know I want to be.”

Yakov smiled, then turned serious. “I have something else I’d like to discuss.”

“Sir?”

“Vitya has said that he would like to be your coach, should you want to return to figure skating.”

Yuri nodded. “It’s something we’d discussed, but I think it’ll have to wait until he can at least come to the rink, so I doubt it’ll be next season.”

Yakov stopped and faced Yuri. “The longer you’re away, the harder it will be to come back. I’ve talked to Vitya, and we came to an arrangement that we think will work, if you agree.”

“Sir?”

“Vitya will do his physical therapy during the day, and you’ll skate. I’ll be his assistant coach, and will be his eyes in the rink. Every day I’ll send video of your progress for him to review with you.”

Yuri’s breath caught in his throat. 

“You need to decide quickly. You should announce before or during worlds. You still have your ranking, and that gives officials enough time to assign you to the Grand Prix Series.”

“I… um…”

“I won’t lie, it won’t be easy for either of you, but one thing you’ve both proven this past year is that you have the strength to keep fighting, so I know that if anybody can do it, it’s the two of you.”

“I’ll have to discuss it with him.”

“Of course. But I wanted to let you know myself that I was on board with this arrangement.”

Yuri nodded, “Thank you sir.”

“Drop the sir Katsuki.”

“Sorry, habit.”

* * *

Yuri reclined on Victor’s hospital bed, with the older man resting in his arms.

“I missed cuddling,” Victor said. 

“Me too,” Yuri replied with a kiss to Victor’s forehead, “but we had to be careful of the IV drips and catheter.”

“Technically you’re still being careful of the catheter,” Victor joked. 

Yuri smiled. “Yes, but I can deal with that. I don’t have to worry about jostling needles in your skin elsewhere now.”

Yuri ran his hand up and down Victor’s arm and pressed his lips to his hair. 

“Yuri?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Yuri blinked. “For what?”

Victor turned as much as he could to look at Yuri. “I hurt you. I was just trying to communicate, but it came across bad and made you feel that you were going insane.”

Yuri smiled. “We figured it out in the end, that’s what matters.”

“Still…”

“Hush, you know I forgave you for that.”

“Do I?”

“I’m here aren’t I? So are you.”

Victor smiled and tipped his chin up.

“Kiss?”

Yuri smiled and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Mmm,” Victor hummed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of those.”

“Me neither.”

They sat in contented silence for several minutes before Yuri spoke again. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Victor smiled. “I’d nod if I had that much muscle control. I’m sure Yuri. I want to see you on the ice again.”

“It’ll be hard on you. It’s a lot, physical therapy will be intense. Shouldn’t you use your nights to relax and recuperate?”

“The longer you wait the higher chance you won’t be able to make a comeback. We’ll push each other.”

Yuri smiled and moved beside Victor. 

“Hey!” Victor pouted. “I wasn’t done cuddling yet.”

Yuri chuckled and took Victor’s left hand in both of his. He kissed the knuckles. “Victor? Will you be my coach?”

Victor smiled. “Did you just ask me to be your coach, or marry you?”

Yuri grinned. “Be my coach, Victor!”

“On one condition.”

Yuri smiled and cocked his head to the side. 

“Make that two. First, more cuddles.”

Yuri chuckled and settled in beside Victor again, carefully pulling him into his arms. 

“Second,” Victor said. “Don’t stop at just one season. Keep going. You’re so talented Yuri. I know you can rival and even surpass my records.”

Yuri felt tears in his eyes. “Ok!”

“One last thing?”

“Hmm?”

“Call me Vitya? Please? I’ve wanted it for so long, but couldn’t really ask.”

Yuri did start crying at that. “Ok… Vitya.”

They leaned their foreheads together, laughing as their lives spread out ahead of them. 

* * *

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Well wasn't that a wild ride? One more chapter to round out the story. Thanks for sticking with me through this. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


	15. New Beginnings - Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Victor look to their future together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're reached the happy ending. Thanks everybody for sticking through all the angst to get here. 
> 
> If you've been enjoying this work please click the share button up above and spread the love. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

“Look who came for a visit!” Yuri sing-songed as he walked into the rehabilitation center where Victor was staying for physical therapy. 

“Makkachin!” Victor cried as a nurse set the brake locks on his wheelchair. 

Yuri let Makkachin off her leash and she bounded toward Victor, sniffing around the chair before carefully putting her front paws and head in his lap. 

Yuri chuckled, walked over and kissed Victor softly. “How was therapy today?”

Victor hummed. “Another kiss and I’ll tell you.”

“Deal.” Yuri replied as he kissed him again. He then pulled a chair around and sat facing Victor. 

“Therapy was good,” Victor said. “I made it to the end of the parallel bars and back without help. Then we went outside for a little while and they got me moving in the pool.”

“That’s fantastic! It wasn’t too hot out, was it?”

Victor nodded and laughed. “I grew up here Yuri. I’m used to summers in Saint Petersburg.” He paused a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. “The doctors hope that at this rate I’ll be able to walk short distances by the start of the season.”

Yuri grinned. “About that… The assignments were posted about an hour ago.”

Victor’s eyes widened and he leaned forward in his excitement. “Really?”

Yuri nodded and pulled out the printout that Yakov had shoved in his hands. “I’m skating in… The NHK Trophy and Rostelecom!”

“Oh Yuri! That’s fantastic! What’s the event order this year?”

Yuri smiled. “Rostelecom is third, and NHK is sixth.” He chuckled. “Yakov thinks some officials decided to be nice to me when they were making the assignments.”

Victor smiled. “If they were, you deserve it.”

“Victor! Be serious! This is my return season.”

Victor pouted. “I am serious.” He softened. “But I’m glad. It gives me more time. Maybe I’ll be able to see you in Moscow, though I don’t know if I’ll be cleared for flights to Japan by then.”

“You’ll be able to make Marseille though, right?”

Victor nodded. “I’ve already stated my intention to see you skate in the final, and the doctors are keeping that in mind. They say a flight that long is on the edge of what they’ll approve, depending on where I’m at in recovery, but they want to get me there too.”

“We’ll get there,” Yuri said. “Together.”

Victor grinned. “Now where’s today’s video? Since you know your assignments it’s time to really start preparing.”

Yuri chuckled. “Don’t let Yurio know I’ve been slacking or he’ll get angry again. He already thinks I’m working too hard.”

“Well you have to, he’s good competition.”

Yuri laughed. “Well.. when you put it like that…”

* * *

 

“Oh, give this to Chris,” Victor said, holding out an envelope. Yuri took it, kissed Victor and put the envelope in his pocket. 

“I can’t believe you’re going to just duck training for a week to go photograph a bunch of rivals,” Yurio scoffed. 

“I’m his coach, and I approved the trip,” Victor scolded. 

“And you’re as much a fool as he is.”

Yuri stood nearby in case Victor needed help getting into his wheelchair, but smiled when he managed successfully on his own. 

“Now Yurio,” Yuri said, turning to the teen. “Are you sure you want to watch Makka? Mila is more than willing.”

Yurio nodded. “I like that doofus of a dog now, after I got to know her. Besides, I owe you for watching Potya when I went to Moscow to visit Grandpa.”

Yuri smiled, then glanced at a clock. “I should get going. I need to grab my luggage and head to the airport.”

Yuri leaned in to kiss Victor goodbye, then walked out of the rehabilitation center, Yurio in step beside him. 

Yurio handed over a magazine as Yuri waited for the bus. 

“What’s this?”

“Special order. It’s that scientific journal that mentions the researchers that took all your photos of Victor. It’s just a tiny mention from what I can tell, but I know you’re collecting these things.”

Yuri smiled and hugged Yurio, who squirmed after a few seconds. 

“Ok, stop being gross and go catch your flight. I’ll make sure Victor’s good while you’re gone.”

“Thanks Yurio. I’ll see you in a week.”

“Bye Katsudon.”

* * *

 

Victor was discharged from the rehabilitation center housing a week before they had to leave for Moscow. He was still required to go to physical therapy every day that he was in Saint Petersburg, and still had to use a wheelchair when he pushed himself, but Yuri and Victor celebrated regardless. 

They were given even better news though the day before their departure, when the doctors finally cleared Victor for sex. 

Yuri took his time opening Victor, kissing the gasps from his lips and tasting the skin that held just a hint of pink. 

“Yuri…” Victor moaned, arching his back and pressing against Yuri’s fingers. “Need you.”

“Patience,” Yuri chuckled. “The doctors said go slow, and… it’s my first time.”

Victor looked at Yuri. “Your first time topping?”

Yuri chewed his lip. “No, like… first time, first time. Technically, I’m still a virgin.”

Victor blinked. “But…”

Yuri leaned in and kissed him as he moved between Victor’s spread legs. He added more lube to his cock then pushed in slowly. “I don’t think ghost sex counts Vitya.”

“Yuri,” Victor moaned, fingers curling against Yuri’s back. 

Yuri took his time, rocking into Victor for the first time. 

“I love you,” Yuri breathed, over and over, between thrusts and kisses. 

Victor angled his hips for more, and Yuri took his time. He savored every gasp and moan, seared Victor’s expression of ecstasy into his memory. 

He could see Victor was close, and he moved enough to wrap his fingers around Victor’s cock. He stroked to the same slow rhythm as his thrusts, trying to remember all the things Victor had done that had felt so good. 

Victor’s fingernails dug into Yuri’s back as he came, and the tightening pulses against his cock sent Yuri over the edge as well. 

Then they were kissing, connected for real. Victor’s hands in Yuri’s hair, and Yuri’s hands tracing the scars that lined Victor’s chest from the accident and subsequent surgeries. 

“They’re ugly…” Victor complained. 

“They’re beautiful,” Yuri countered. “Because they’re part of you, and you’re beautiful.”

“Yuri!” Victor protested with a blush. 

Yuri pulled out, kissed Victor then grabbed some tissues to clean them up. Once they were clean he pulled the covers over them. 

“I’m still amazed that this is real now,” Yuri said as he nestled against Victor’s chest. 

“It is real,” Victor said softly, kissing his hair. “This is us now.”

Yuri looked up and smiled. 

* * *

 

Yuri took a deep breath and waited for the music to start. He’d made the Grand Prix Final, defying the skeptics by not only advancing his return season, but by being the competitor with the highest number of points going in, having won both his qualifiers. 

His costume glittered under the harsh arena lights in Marseille. His pants went from black at his ankles to dark blue around his middle. His shoulders and upper torso were decorated in bursts of color reminiscent of fireworks. 

He felt triumphant, no matter the score. He was there, with Victor looking on.

He took one last glance and could make out the platinum blur of Victor’s hair as he stood at the edge of the rink, leaning on his cane. 

The  [ music ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0RVIgZRRlmk) started, and Yuri moved. 

This was their story. Darkness, his movements were cautious, then hope. Yuri remembered Victor’s eyes, Victor’s voice when he awoke, and the first person he called for was Yuri. 

He launched into his step sequence, feet flying with elation. 

Quad lutz-triple toe just past the halfway point. The crowd went wild. 

A series of spirals and spins, then a pause in the music and Yuri landed a clean triple axel. 

The music was jubilant and so was Yuri as he set up for the final jump. 

Yuri landed the quad flip to roaring applause, and finished with his combination spin. 

He smiled as he held his final pose, there was only one thing left to make it perfect. 

Yuri bowed, then skated over to where Phichit stood off to one side of the barrier. 

A murmur went through the crowd, then Yuri skated to where Victor waited with open arms at the exit. 

Yuri had other plans in mind, sinking to one knee and sliding across the ice, opening a small box. 

Victor’s hand flew to his mouth, and tears streamed down his face. 

A hush went over the audience. 

Victor nodded, and Yuri removed his glove before sliding the ring onto his finger. 

They kissed as Yuri stepped off the ice, the audience roaring their approval. 

“Yuri…”

“You’ve surprised me since the first day I saw you skate,” Yuri explained, leaning his forehead against Victor’s. “And you kept surprising me even after the accident. It was my turn to surprise you.”

Victor’s arms around him as they kissed again. 

* * *

 

Yuri’s long program was dedicated to the months that he’d been silent, feeling Victor’s presence and drowning in the feeling of insanity. 

Of course to the audience, the  [ music ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQ3u1wqmfzU) was a love song, Yuri reaching out to the love of his life. 

By the end the audience was in tears.

Yurio barely grumbled as Yuri climbed to the top of the podium. A gold medal was draped over his neck, but the gold that his eye kept drifting to was the matching engagement band he wore on his right hand. 

* * *

 

They were married in April, cherry blossoms gently falling from the trees around them. 

Victor had insisted that they marry in Hasetsu, so he could properly meet his new family, and he secretly confided to Yuri that he didn’t want to strain their finances by having them close the onsen for any longer than was necessary. 

Some in the media speculated that the marriage was too soon. Victor had only been awake a year and they’d only been engaged five months. 

To Victor and Yuri it wasn’t soon enough.

Their biggest argument about the wedding was who would stand up front and be able to watch the other walk the aisle. Eventually Chris and Phichit, their best men, decided that the only way to solve the problem would be for both of them to walk, they arranged it so the grooms would enter at opposite sides and walk toward each other at the same time. 

Victor still walked with a cane as he strode toward Yuri, radiant and beaming in his cream-colored suit. Then they met in the middle, and all Yuri could think about was how beautiful his soon-to-be-husband was. 

“I love you,” Yuri murmured after the kiss. 

“I love you too,” Victor replied before dipping his head for a second kiss. 

* * *

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the announcer said over the loudspeaker of the arena in Nagoya, “The Grand Prix Final men’s gold medalist for the second year in a row, skating tonight in his home country, Yuri Katsuki!”

Yuri skated to center ice, waving at the fans. 

“Joining him for tonight’s exhibition, for the first public performance since the accident three years ago is his husband, Victor Nikiforov!”

The crowd erupted into cheers as Victor skated out in a matching outfit, his purple to Yuri’s blue. 

Victor still couldn’t land jumps, but they were determined to show their love on the ice, so Victor had choreographed an ice dance just for them. 

Of course they both decided that Victor’s final free program song was perfect, as it called out to a lover. But it didn’t feel appropriate since they were married. 

Victor, of course, had the piece turned into a duet. 

They skated their love, baring their souls to the world and showing the depth of their love for each other. Yuri knew they still had challenges ahead, but he knew that they’d overcome them; that if their love could survive Victor being comatose and a ghost… if it could survive the months of intense rehabilitation, then they could survive anything. 

The duet faded to a close, and they ended in each other’s arms, gazing into each other’s eyes. 

“I love you,” they said at the same time, then started laughing. 

“Forever,” Victor said, leaning in.

“Always,” Yuri replied their lips coming together for a kiss.

 

###  ~Fin

[Art by YukariKitsune9](http://yukarikitsune9.tumblr.com/post/166829929632/so-heres-a-bunch-of-art-i-made-for)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments, kudos or shares. 
> 
> Thanks everybody! Make sure to check out other works from the Victuri Bang 2017. Click the collections link near the top. 
> 
> Head over to tumblr and yell at me about Yuri On Ice at [phoenixwaller.tumblr.com](http://phoenixwaller.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find my other YoI fanfics on my AO3 profile at <http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwaller/profile>


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